I Am Alone
by Miles333
Summary: A horrible virus is set upon the earth, and not even the Justice League can do anything about it. Flash escapes a bloody battle with his life, but the rest of his teammates aren't so lucky. He thinks that he's the last person on the planet...but is he?
1. Prologue: Virus

**Disclaimer: **Let's face it. I don't own _Justice League_ or any characters and places that have remotely anything to do with it. _DC Comics_ does. I also don't own _I Am Legend_, which basically belongs to the guy who wrote the book. But I do own the plot of this story! :D

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Prologue: Virus

"The virus is spreading," Mr. Terrific said in a tense voice, frowning at the computer screen before him. "These news reports say that more and more people are…" He swallowed, hardly able to say the horrible word, "…mutating."

I felt a shiver run through me at his words, which could mean the end of Earth as all of us knew it. It had already meant the closing down of the Watchtower until further notice, and we hadn't been on missions off-world in months. All of the League members that were actually still alive were holed up in Metro Tower. And that wasn't very many. B'Wana Beast, Fire, Atom, Dr. Light, Vigilante, Booster Gold, Steel, Stargirl, and so many others had already died, infected with the virus. I didn't even want to think about…Linda.

I had helped throw their bodies into the fire pit in Metropolis myself, so they would actually stay dead.

"What can we do?" Superman asked in a tired voice. We were all tired these days, even the Boy Scout. Because of that virus, the one that had been supposed to cure cancer.

The woman who had created it had been all over the news shows in the beginning, praised for her amazing accomplishment as more and more cured people walked out of the hospitals. But then the virus had become airborne. All the people around the world had started changing, acting weird. No one had known what was going on until it was far too late for anything to be done.

"I don't think that there's anything else we _can_ do," Mr. T. said in a solemn voice. He rubbed his forehead, which was free of his painted-on mask. None of us really bothered with concealing our identities anymore, trying to focus on saving Earth instead. He closed his eyes, probably fighting back memories. He'd lost both his wife and daughter in the epidemic. His wife had gotten far enough along to become one of the people afraid to go into the light.

"There must be something," J'onn began softly. "Flash and Shayera both have blood that is immune to the disease, as we have discovered with our tests. Exposure to the virus takes away most of Flash's abilities, but it doesn't harm him. The same with Shayera. If we can just get their blood made into a _cure_ of some sort-"

"We have to _do_ something!" Supes slammed his mighty fist into the computer's keyboard, sending sparks flying everywhere. We all flinched away from him, seeing the fire burning in his angry eyes. He had lost Lois Lane, his fiancée, when she had become infected, along with so many others. That didn't help him control his temper very well, as he was having emotional problems now. "We can't just stand here and do _nothing_, hiding here in the Metro Tower and waiting to _die_!"

"We don't know what's going to happen now, Clark," Diana said soothingly, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. I saw her blinking back tears from her eyes, probably thinking about Batman. He had died just over a week ago; I didn't let myself think about it, that fact that Bats was dead. None of us ever pictured the way he had looked, eyes glazed over, skin turning to grayish-white.

He had looked like a living corpse, which was pretty much what he _had_ been.

"Maybe the virus will just blow over, stop where it is now," Ollie suggested, though his tone showed that he doubted it. It was bitter and full of pain. Black Canary was in the Metro Tower's infirmary. It was painfully obvious from her shallow breathing and sallow skin that she was infected.

"If you believe that, you're _insane_," GL growled. "Why else are we forbidden from leaving this place now? Why haven't we seen any new reports on TV? Why haven't we been getting any calls? Everyone out there is probably _dead_ by now!"

It had been over a week since the last call from someone. I was starting to agree with him. Was everyone out there dead? Were we here in the Metro Tower the last people left alive? I closed my eyes, imagining us all slowly dying, trapped inside this coffin of a building.

My breath hitched, and Shayera put one arm around me. She was all I had right now, my big sister. GL was too caught up in this horrible virus, not caring about anyone around him. He had become an emotionless robot of the best friend I had once known. "It's going to be okay, Wally," Shayera whispered into my ear, squeezing my hand with one of hers.

A shrill scream of terror suddenly rang out through the building, and all of us jumped in shock. I spun towards the doorway, and saw Kara stumble into the control room, light blue eyes wide with horror.

Supes was at his cousin's side in an instant, gripping her shoulders. "Kara, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Outside," she mumbled, body drooping and eyelids fluttering as though she might faint. "They're all…they're all…" She shook her head numbly, blond hair flipping against her face.

"Who's outside? Kara, who?" Superman demanded, shaking her. The loss of Lois had made him less in control of himself. He didn't even seem to realize that he could be hurting her.

I pulled away from Shayera and ran over to them with what speed I had left. I jerked her away from him. Her whole body was shaking. She wrapped her arms around me and buried her head against my chest. I let her, though it made pain shoot through me. Her touch reminded me so much of Linda. We had been about to get married, then...

"Kara, answer me!" Clark was beyond angry, eyes narrowed into slits.

"Clark, don't-" Shayera began worriedly.

Kara started sobbing, lifting her face from my chest. "Everyone," she choked out brokenly.

Diana soared out of the room, towards the front entrance. GL, Superman, Shayera, Mr. Terrific, Ollie, and J'onn ran after her. I carefully scooped Kara up into my arms and sped in the direction that they had gone. She clung to me, soaking the front of my costume with her tears.

"_Hera_," Diana gasped out as she looked through the front window. Her voice was broken and tortured.

"Oh my…" Shayera's voice trailed off into nothingness.

I shoved through to be able to see myself. And I saw that Kara had been right about 'everyone' being out there. Hundred of people gathered in front of the Metrotower, illuminated in the darkness by a few streetlights. Their skin was white and full of pulsing blue veins. They were all bald, gaunt, and wearing shredded clothing. One stood before them all, breathing heavily and lips clenched together tightly. All the others were screaming and shrieking, the sound chilling my blood. Among the horrifying creatures lurked thin animals that could have once been dogs. Their eyes were red, and their jaws were dripping slime. Several people held them back with ragged collars.

"What are those things?" Ice blurted from behind me, voice shaking.

"The people." Green Arrow sounded numb.

I couldn't figure out what he meant; those things weren't people. They had to be a race of aliens attacking our planet. Then I could see it, too, in an instant. Those who had been dying these past months, they had resembled the creatures out front. Only they had still looked human. These were further along in the infection. In the weeks since we had been out of the Metrotower, everyone out there had transformed into those…things.

"We might be able to cure them," J'onn said thickly, always trying to sound hopeful but failing miserably.

"But what if everyone out there looks like this? What are we going to-" John began.

The leader of the pack roared wordlessly, and all the monstrous dogs were released. They bounced forward, throwing themselves against the outside of the building. Several people screamed, and I tripped over my own feet as I stumbled backwards. Kara scrambled from my arms and ran further in, to who knows where.

"What the-" GL broke off when the mutated people did the same as the dogs had, charging forward. They began attacking the building with a vengeance, clawing at it and screaming the whole time. The whole place started shaking, and cracks formed in the glass windows.

"They're going to get in!" someone screamed.

"What in Hera's name do they want?" Diana cried, flinging an arm across her face to protect it from the flying glass.

I already knew. To kill us. Because we were living, and they were dead. I bit back the hopeless sobs that threatened to overflow from my lips. We were all going to be killed by those things outside. We were going to die, and we would never be able to cure everyone with mine and Shayera's blood like we had hoped.

Mr. Terrific ran over to me as they started to kick in the door. Each blow made a sound like thunder, and it was starting to cave in. I tore my eyes from the death outside and looked up as he started speaking. "Wally, get out of here. Now. Take Shayera with you and get as far away as you can. There are too many of them."

"What? Those things are trying to kill us. I can't just abandon you guys-"

"You have to. You two are our only hope." He glanced over his shoulder as the window exploded inward, spraying everyone with a coating of shattered glass. He spoke even more urgently now, trying to get the words out. "If they get their hands on you, everyone is going to remain like that forever! Run as far as you can, and find a cure!"

I leapt to my feet as the creatures started pouring in. They pounced on several of my teammates before they could make a sound, snapping their necks or tearing open their flesh. I heard a whimper over the sounds of battle, and realized that it had come from me.

"Go! _Now_!" Mr. Terrific shoved me and raced back towards the battle.

I watched for a few seconds more, torn, as the infected people of Metropolis attacked my friends and teammates. Something inside of me was urging me to go help them, to fight off those zombie creatures and make sure that _all_ of us survived, no matter what.

But Mr. T. was right. Shayera and I were the world's only hope. If _we_ died, so would the rest of the planet. The virus would take over completely, destroying the last of the human civilization. Everyone who was dying here tonight would have died in vain.

I gritted my teeth and ran towards Shayera at the fastest speed I could manage, which wasn't very fast compared to what I was used to. One of the crazed canines, teeth bared and saliva flying in all directions, jumped towards me. I kicked it in the snout, feeling its jaws snap at my boot. I ignored the twinge of guilt I felt for kicking the animal; it was out of its mind and trying to kill me. I had no choice.

I finally reached Shayera, after what seemed to me like an eternity. She was slamming her mace into a zombie monster. Or whatever it was, anyway. She pulled her weapon back again and again, crashing it with deadly force into her attacker with each swing. More and more came racing towards us, and she kept hitting them all away.

"Shayera! We have to get out of here! We're immune to the virus, and we can try to find a cure!" I panted, kicking a once-human in the neck as he clawed angrily at me. "If we die, everyone else is _doomed_!"

"Get out of here, Wally!" she screamed at me over the sounds of our friends' dying cries and the endless shrieks of the infected who were killing them. "I'm not going to leave; I'm going to stay and fight! Get as far away as you can! _Run_!" A breath whooshed from her lips as she whirled her mace into two more creatures.

"No! I…I can't leave you!" The thought horrified me. If I lost my big sister too, I would have lost just about everyone that I cared about. Everyone.

She turned to face me, eyes narrowed into emerald slits of determination. "You have to," she hissed at me. "I'll be fine. Just _go_." Her wings arched out from her back to add to her urgency.

I didn't want to, but I knew that I had to. I forced myself to turn away from her, and ordered my feet to run. I left the Metrotower as fast as I could, the horrifying sounds slowly fading away into the background.

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So, any good? What do you think? Remember, reviews=a girl's best friend! :D


	2. Chapter One: One Year Later

Chapter One: One Year Later

_One year later…_

The only sound echoing through the empty streets of Central City was the low rumbling of my car's engine. The car itself wasn't anything really that remarkable, just a regular black one. There probably would have been cars that were a lot cooler if everyone hadn't died. But they hadn't really died, just…mutated. I preferred not to think about that, as it brought up memories of my friends and teammates being killed by the creatures.

As Shayera and Mr. Terrific had told me to do a year ago, I had run. I had traveled all the way across Metropolis before getting too tired. My legs had been aching, and my lungs burning with pain. It had been horrifying to me, as I wasn't used to this happening. I had used to be able to run at speeds unimaginable to others, open up the Speed Force. I didn't have to worry about that happening anymore.

I had stayed overnight in the Daily Planet elevator, pausing it between floors and pressing the stop button. There I had waited, curled up in a ball on the floor, for morning. I could still remember that awful night perfectly; it was imprinted upon my memory. Strange shrieks and screams had echoed through the blackness all around my hiding place. Every so often, I had heard heavy footsteps and labored panting as one of the zombies had passed.

I hadn't slept at all that whole night.

When morning had finally arrived, all the horror movie sound effects had stopped. I had rode the elevator to the ground floor, cautiously getting out. I had assumed that one of the infected would instantly jump me, and kill me like they had the rest of the League. I almost welcomed this, knowing that I couldn't bear to be alive any longer. Especially now that Linda was dead.

Outside, none of the infected were around. Warm sunlight was pulsing down onto the streets, glistening on the broken windows and twisted remains of cars that had been torn apart. Several bodies had littered the streets, and I had thrown up until I couldn't any longer.

Then, I had gotten into one of the abandoned cars that still functioned and headed for Central City. I had been praying subconsciously that some people were still alive there. It hadn't really sunk into my brain yet that this plague was worldwide, that everyone else besides me was dead.

I shook my head to clear away the disturbing thoughts of what life had used to be like. I needed to focus on the here and now, because that's what I had now. I was all alone on the planet, and needed to get used to that. It was how things were now. I seriously doubted that it was going to change anytime soon.

I clutched both hands to the wheel, watching them whiten as I tightened my grip. I sped past the broken remains of the city, buildings that were crumbling, cracked sidewalks with grass sprouting up from them, destroyed bridges. I had to drive around the abandoned cars littering the road.

A flock of birds exploded up from where they had been in the center of the street, chirping loudly as I drove through them. I swerved to avoid a particularly large place where the asphalt had come loose, almost hitting a couple stray birds. I had to jerk to a stop, nearly throwing myself out of the seat. Luckily, I was wearing my seatbelt. Old habits die hard, I guess.

I muttered under my breath as the high-powered gun in my lap fell on my foot, not having been strapped down like I had been. Fortunately, the safety had been on. Getting a few bullets in my foot wouldn't be any fun, especially since I was starting to run low on medical supplies in my first aid kit. And that would mean a trip to the hospital.

I would have welcomed some cranky nurses who were rushing around trying to take care of all the patients. But the best service I could hope to get would be some infected creatures who happened to be hiding in there somewhere. Ever since the last of the electricity in the hospital had gone out, that was a big place for a lot of them to hide in the daytime.

My tires screeched as I bumped through a large patch of grass. I had to turn the wheel as hard as I could to get over the rough part, then did a right turn. I didn't bother to make use of the stop sign; after all, why follow traffic laws when there wasn't such a thing as traffic anymore?

Through my open window, I heard a weird bawling sound, like cattle would make. I frowned, turning my head to glance in my rearview mirror. "What the heck was that?" I whispered to myself. I liked to say things out loud whenever I got the chance. It was great to hear a human voice, even when that voice was my own. "The infected don't come out until sunset, and it isn't even noon right now…" I sincerely hoped that they weren't becoming immune to the harmful rays of sunlight. Then I would be trapped inside all the time, instead of just after dark.

Suddenly, a deer sprang right in front of the car, its eyes wide and white with terror. "Whoa!" I jerked the wheel, my tires spinning crazily as they tried to grip at the surface of the road. More deer followed the first one, a whole herd of them. They pounded crazily away from me as I inched the car to a stop. I watched them go, flitting into the distance.

Reaching down to the floorboard, I grabbed my gun. Clicking the car door open, I climbed out and jogged towards the blocked road ahead. I heard myself panting, though not from the exercise. Up ahead were the broken-down cop cars and metal barricades. Beyond were the cars that had been left behind as people had tried to force their way through to get out the city. I remembered it all clearly, back when news of the deadly plague had first been released.

I circled around, making my way into a field with grass nearly as tall as I was to the right of the blocked street. I got down on my knees and crawled towards the high-pitched sounds the deer were using to communicate with each other. I felt a bead of sweat roll down my forehead, and impatiently wiped it away with one hand. _Don't get all soft now, Wally, _I ordered myself mentally. _You used to take down bad guys like Braniac, Grodd, and Morgaine le Fey. There's no reason to be weak just because you don't wear red spandex now. _

I crawled closer, trying not to make too much noise. The weeds growing around me crackled only slightly beneath my weight. I took a deep breath as I got nearer to my goal, hearing my stomach growl quietly. It had been several days since I'd had a good meal, and I was starving. I was running out of food that wasn't already going bad at home, and I was trying to save it.

I slowly and carefully got to my feet, gun held in the arm at my side. I craned my neck to try to see around the parked cars up ahead. Their windows were all cracked and broken out, so I didn't have to worry about any infected living in them. Narrowing my eyes, I took a few steps closer. The dead leaves crackled under my feet. _Where did they all go? _I thought angrily. Surely the whole herd hadn't gotten away so fast.

Then I saw the tail of a small deer sticking out from behind a piece of red metal that dangled precautiously off the side of a building. I silently raised my gun, looking through the eyepiece on one side. My stomach clenched as I realized that I was going to have to kill the deer, a fellow survivor. But it wasn't like I had any choice in the matter. Either I could live or it could. The decision wasn't that hard to make, despite the fact that I hated killing.

Before I could pull the trigger with my shaking finger, the deer casually moved behind the metal, getting out of range. I sighed, lowering the gun. I was going to have to get closer, so it would seem. I started creeping forward even more, knowing that one wrong move would scare the herd out from wherever they were hiding, and I could kiss my venison dinner goodbye.

I moved quietly forward, then reached the edge of the field. Though I didn't like the idea of being out in the open, even though none of the infected were out right then, I ran soundlessly across the crumbled gravel spread out across the ground. I stopped with my back up against a building, then moved with agonizing slowness to peer around the side of the wall.

The deer I was pursuing strolled along between several cars, flicking its tail calmly. It didn't even know that I was watching it. This thought reassuring me, I crept around behind a car and lay down on the pavement. I had the perfect view under the rear end of the car. I moved the gun in front of me, waiting for the right moment to fire.

The deer lowered its head to the yellowed patch of grass at its hooves, then nibbled at it. As my finger tightened on the trigger, a loud snarling sound nearly gave me a heart attack. The gun fell from my numb fingers and I jumped to my feet as a lion exploded from the shadows and landed on top of the deer. It took its prey's neck in its mighty jaws, growling as it bit down. The deer slowly stopped struggling as it died, and the predator let go.

I bent down and fumbled for my gun, then pointed it with shaking hands at the lion that had stolen my deer from me. It stared at me with cold yellow eyes, growling deep in its throat. My hands kept shaking as I tried to make myself pull the trigger. Two more oversized felines came from behind a car, one of them a cub. Seeing it prancing joyfully, not even aware of me, made me feel sick. The cub didn't even know what kind of world it lived in, how the planet had once been.

I slowly lowered the gun and turned away towards my car.

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I continued down the empty streets, swerving around potholes and other obstacles. It didn't take me long to reach the Central City park, which was in the center of town. I got out of the car, slamming my door with a bang that echoed around me with painful loudness.

Playground equipment was twisted painfully, lying haphazardly on the sand. Benches were broken, and water fountains were crushed. A few kids' toys were scattered around, too, showing that the kids they had belonged to had been rushed away. Right in the center of all the destruction sat seven graves.

Coming here nearly always depressed me, but I came anyway. I tried to make it at least once a week, to say hi to the League and everything. It was kind of pathetic, but it made me feel better. Of course, there weren't any actual bodies, but I had gone to all the trouble of digging seven holes one particularly sunny day then filling them back up to pretend that there were.

I walked over and sat down, staring at the large rocks at the head of each makeshift grave. _Clark Kent_, _Bruce Wayne_, _Diana Prince_, _Shayera Hol_, _J'onn J'onnz_, _John Stewart_, and _Linda Park_ were written on each one with black magic marker.

I sniffled, rubbing my eye for a few seconds. "I must have something in my eye," I announced quietly, pulling a black marker from my pocket. Shayera's name was starting to fade a little on her gravestone, so I quickly rewrote the letters so that they were darker again. I checked the rest of them, fixing anything else that was starting to fade. Then I sat down beside Linda's grave and relived some of the great things we had done together before she had…died. It was better than thinking about throwing her limp and pale body into the flames in Metropolis, falling to my knees and sobbing as I watched her burn.

I hurriedly bit down on my lip. If I started thinking like that, I'd freak out like I always did. Days like that were the days that I always ended up attempting to drive towards Metropolis to find out if anyone had survived the big battle. I of course wouldn't make it there in time, then would be forced to find shelter to hide away the whole night until I could come home the next day. This had happened roughly twenty-seven times.

So that's why I tried to avoid thinking about the past.

"So, guys. How's death treating you?" I tried to joke, voice sounding lifeless as I spoke. "I bet you're all having a grand ol' party, aren't ya? How about you, GL? Dumped Mari for Shayera yet? I always knew that would happen." I waited, listening to the sounds of birds singing their hearts out from the trees. They were so stupid. What was there to sing about? Everyone else was dead!

I jumped to me feet, eyes feeling wet. "Apparently you guys aren't in a very talkative mood today. So I guess I'll see you later, okay?" I took a deep breath. "Same time, same place, right? Great. See you then." I turned away from the graves, then saw the flash of movement from the corner of my eye.

And the gun was in the car, which was parked all the way back at the curb.

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Thanks a million for all the amazing reviews, guys! I want to give you all a hug. I didn't think that so many people would be interested in this story. But I guess that you are, so there's your update. Keep it up, 'kay?


	3. Chapter Two: All Too Familiar

**A/N: **I've had a few requests to explain how even aliens such as Superman and Kara were infected with this mysterious virus. And the explanation is this: the virus attacks the body of anything breathing, even those from other planets. Only those with something special in their blood, such as Shayera and Wally, are immune. And no, not all speedsters and Thanagarians have this immunity, just them. It's kind of a coincidence, I guess. And as soareagle pointed out to me, it's like what Aresia did in the JL episode "Fury". ALL the men were infected, even Superman and J'onn. Anyway, I hope this helps you guys understand better. Enjoy the chapter!

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Chapter Two: All Too Familiar

My heart started pounding painfully against my ribs, and my legs were shaking so badly that they could barely hold me up. This was my worst nightmare come true. I had seen movement, and since the only other living things out there besides me happened to be the infected, except for a few scraggly animals who dared not venture anywhere around me, then it was obvious what I had just seen moving among the bushes. And without my gun, I stood no chance of protecting myself.

I was going to die, just like the League had. After they had sacrificed everything to protect me so that I could somehow try to save humanity, I was going to die. All this time that I had spent clinging to life was going to be in vain.

My breath came in startled gasps, and I could definitely feel a slight panic attack coming on. I started backing away towards the nearest tree, eyes frantically scanning the open area all around me. There wasn't any place to hide! My hands involuntarily clenched up into small balls, index finger on my right hand twitching as though it was wrapped around an invisible trigger.

The bushes directly to my left crackled menacingly, the eerie noise like a gunshot in the absolute silence. Whatever was creeeping towards me was coming stealthily, as though it was unsure of the danger or not. Beads of sweat popped out on my forehead, and my breathing increased even more, until my heart was racing. I almost felt like I was having a heart attack.

I couldn't take it anymore; I turned and ran towards the tree behind me. Suddenly, it seemed like it was fifty miles away, instead of just a few yards. My lungs started burning, and my legs were aching. Some hidden part of me craved the Speed Force, that which had helped me so effortlessly to run and bring down bad guys just over a year ago. But now, I was just a normal guy.

In a world filled with infected zombies.

I could hear something panting loudly, the pounding of footsteps chasing me across the grass. I tried to run even faster, pushing my weakened body past its limits, but it was no use. Whatever was after me was faster than I was.

Something warm and heavy slammed into my back, and I went down hard on the dirt. I twisted around wildly, fighting to survive. I kicked my leg out like I imagine that a mule would have, hoping that I could at least cause some pain to my attacker before I died.

A loud yelp assaulted my ears, and the weight unexpectedly vanished. _What…? _I thought with confusion, head ringing with dizziness. I was feeling the affects of not having steady meals now, everything blurring before my eyes as I heaved myself into a sitting position.

Instead of seeing an infected zombie with bared teeth looking down at me, I saw…nothing. I shook my head, trying to shake some sense into my dazed brain. Surely I hadn't imagined all that. It had felt so _real_, like it had really been happening.

It was at that moment that I noticed the blur of dark golden fur heading in the opposite direction, off across the park. It wasn't a zombie, it was just a dog. And a normal one, from the looks of it; it was actually _not_ infected with the virus. And for some reason, all dogs I'd come across since I'd begun this lonely existence had been infected. Same with cats, and other small animals. In fact, just about the only other things alive, beside me, were the larger animals and birds. I couldn't even pretend to understand it.

As I had these thoughts, I suddenly realized that the dog was quickly fading into the distance, waving tail lowered between its legs as it ran.

Jumping to my feet, I took off after the dog before I stopped to think it through. "Hey, come back here! Wait!" I shouted desperately, loud tone scattering a flock of startled birds up into the darkening sky.

My voice only scared the animal even more, making it run faster than before. It vanished over the top of a grassy hill, charging down the slope towards the looming buildings below.

Panting at the effort of trying to keep up, my mind whirled over the possibilities of how it was still alive. Maybe it was immune to the virus, like I was. But even if that was true, how had it survived the attacking zombies for so long, a whole year? Surely they would have killed it by now. I decided that it must have been doing _something_ right, since it was still alive. Then I focused solely on running as my legs fought to keep going while I lengthened their strides.

The dog weaved among several cars and vanished seemingly into nowhere. I stopped, hands on my knees and chest heaving up and down painfully, and stared hopelessly in the direction that it had disappeared. I cursed mentally at myself. Why hadn't I been faster?

I was jolted out of my thoughts as the watch strapped securely onto my wrist started beeping shrilly. I jumped slightly then stared down at it with a dark frown that would have made Bats proud. It couldn't be time already, so soon. It felt like I had only been out for a few minutes. But the cracked face of the small clock read exactly twenty-five minutes after five o'clock.

I glanced over my shoulder at the setting sun, which was casting long and eerie shadows all across the city. It was sinking fast, a large and round ball of orange disappearing on the horizon. This was my least favorite time of day. And now I was going to have to give up the search for the dog. Who knew if I would ever be able to find it again?

I angrily clicked off the shrill alarm, then started jogging back towards the park. My ragged shoes slapped against the hard ground beneath my feet. My mouth was dry, and my heart was still pounding roughly, but I didn't have the choice of taking the walk back slowly. It was getting late already, and I didn't have much time.

By the time I had retrieved my magic marker from beside the graves and reached my car again, it was 5:30. The sky was a dark gray color, with only slight shadows of pink and orange decorating the horizon. I didn't stop to admire the beauty, swinging one leg into the car, followed by the rest of my body, and slamming the door roughly. The harsh sound echoed out across the empty city.

I started up the engine, revving it loudly. Then I reversed the car, backing carelessly away from the curb. I heard a crunching sound as I ran the back bumper into an abandoned car, but didn't really care. My car was still running, and that's what mattered. But if it stopped working, on the other hand…

I stepped down hard on the accelerator, and exploded out into the street. Turning the wheel sharply to the left, I headed for home. My speedometer read ninety miles an hour, which made my pulse speed up. This was as close as I could get to running like I once had, though it wasn't really the same.

I checked the gas gage, only bothering to keep one eye on the road speeding by ahead. The gas was starting to get low. Come morning, I would have to head over to the gas station and fill up. I didn't want to think about what would happen if all the stations in Central City ran out of gasoline. Then I would have to start carrying buckets out of town to other gas pumps and bringing some back. That activity would drain away most of the hours of the day, and I wouldn't have time to do anything else that was important.

My watch started beeping again, my imagination thinking that it sounded even more insistent. Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, I switched off the second alarm. It was 5:38, nearly completely dark out. I usually didn't stay out this late, for obvious reasons. It had been really stupid of me to swing by to visit Linda and the League when I had known how late it was.

I could already picture the zombies creeping out of their lairs, coming to find me, the last human being on the planet. It was their unending hobby, trying to find ways to break into my safe house. They hadn't succeeded yet, since I had secured the house so well. But if I didn't get home in time one day, I could forget about surviving any longer.

I swung wildly into a suburb, tires screeching. My watch now read 5:46, and I could barely see the dying rays of the sunlight as they delicately shone down to earth. Across town, some of the infected were probably already coming out for the night.

I drove up to Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris' house, the place where I'd been living for the last year. True, I could have chosen a ritzy pad across the city, one of the bigger mansions, but it just made me feel better to live somewhere familiar. I pushed the button on the black visor, and the heavy-duty metal garage door slowly slid upwards, creaking in protest. I pulled in, closing the door as soon as the car was out of the way. I was plunged into inky darkness.

I kicked open the car door, taking my gun with me. I felt through the darkness, trying to find the door leading into the house, and finally located the knob. It was cool against my fingers as I pulled it open and stepped into the house.

It wasn't much brighter inside. Every inch of the walls, windows, chimney upstairs, and doors was covered with thick slabs of wood. On one particularly sunny day, I had nailed them all up to secure the house. I had plenty of extra lumber stacked upstairs in one of the spare bedrooms in case I needed it.

I flipped on a light switch, bright rays revealing the living room. It was strewn with carpentry tools and weapons. I wanted to clean everything up sometime, but I had never had the time. I always told myself that I would do it at night when I couldn't sleep, but I always found something else to do instead.

Tossing my gun carelessly down on the stained sofa, I strode into the kitchen. I flicked on a few more lights, illuminating the large room and effectively chasing away the dark shadows that had been hovering in the corners. I jerked open the refrigerator door and examined the meager contents. Selecting a bottle of coke, I popped the tab and took a deep drink.

Outside, something screamed loudly, and claws scraped at the outside of the house. Something crashed against the roof, which was luckily also tightly sealed up against attacks.

I swallowed hard, the hand clutching the can of coke starting to shake. Taking a deep breath, I strode towards what had once been the front door. A small peephole was installed through the thick wood covering it, so that I could safely watch the infected as they patrolled the house at night.

I pulled back the small covering placed over the hole, and stared out. I knew who I would see, since he was always there, but it still made me sick to see him. I don't even know why I still bothered to torture myself.

A man, head bald and his blue veins showing up easily against his waxy skin, stood outside the house while several others of his kind threw their bodies against the brick. His chest rose and fell with deep wheezing breaths, and his clothing hung in shredded rags from his tall and lean form. The only familiar thing about him was the pair of blue eyes, shining from his hideous face. The exact color of my own eyes.

"It's always nice to see you again, Uncle Barry," I managed to choke out, stomach churning with nausea. I slammed the peephole closed and ran to the bathroom to empty my already too-empty stomach.

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	4. Chapter Three: Trapped

Chapter Three: Trapped

The next morning, I woke up sprawled across my bed on the second floor. I blinked, frowning, then felt something cold slide against my leg. I jerked away from it as hard as I could, and tumbled right off the edge. My head smacked against the corner of the nightstand, causing a sharp pain to explode behind my eyes. My legs tangled in the blankets, and I kicked at them frantically while trying to push myself into a sitting position on the carpet.

Then I saw what had startled me. My gun had fallen from my lap and into the floor. That was all. None of the zombies or infected or anything else equally horrible that I had been imagining.

Frowning and rubbing the back of my head, I kicked away the blankets and stood. Lugging the gun along behind me, I headed out into the hallway and down the stairs to the living room. Checking the peephole, I saw that the sun was almost completely up now. The infected would be safely holed away in the dark recesses of various buildings by this time of the morning, and this thought reassured me immensely.

I walked towards the kitchen with a little more of a spring in my step. Instead of going out and scavenging first thing, I would have a big breakfast, then go out and attempt to catch the dog that I had seen yesterday. If it was still alive, anyway. Who knew? Knowing my bad luck, it had survived this long only to be picked off in the middle of the night after I'd just found it.

Propping my gun against the counter, I reached into the fridge and started pushing various cans and junk around. "Okay, so obviously no eggs and bacon for our fine Scarlet Speedster," I said aloud to myself, trying to sound chipper. I have no idea what I was trying to prove, or to who. I already knew that I wasn't feeling particularly cheery, so why lie to myself? It was easier just to be honest. Because if you kept lies from yourself…

I rubbed my forehead with a groan. "It's official. I'm insane. I'm turning into the Question," I told myself darkly, sliding a can of frozen, readymade biscuits out of the very back of the refrigerator. Sure, I'd been saving them for some special day, but what special day would I save them for, exactly? Why not eat them now? I hadn't eaten breakfast in at least a week, and I was hungry. So there.

Scowling, I banged around in the little sliding drawer at the bottom of the oven until I found a metal cookie sheet. Then I found a pocketknife in a drawer and hacked open the container. When it popped, I nearly dropped dead of a heart attack on the floor. I placed all eight of the roll-type things on the cookie sheet, then threw it in the oven. Who cared if it wasn't preheated? I'd eat them even if they burned, that's how much I wanted a fresh biscuit. I quickly set the timer for eleven minutes, stomach rumbling hungrily with anticipation.

"Okay, time to go check around the property!" I announced, almost looking over my shoulder to see if anyone else was listening. I stopped myself just in time, grabbing my gun. I squared my shoulders and marched across the living room. I avoiding looking at the framed pictures of Aunt Iris and Uncle Barry, as usual, and headed briskly out into the garage.

Flicking on the light switch, I surveyed the interior of the garage. My car looked okay, so that meant that none of the infected had been able to break their way inside. The first car that I had driven, a silver SUV, had been completely destroyed because I hadn't fortified the walls enough. The infected had clawed their ways right in through the sheetrock.

I strolled casually over and checked the freezer and generator to make sure that everything was still running smoothly, then double-checked the inside of the walls. No holes, that I could make out, which was good.

Next, I opened my car door and pulled out the garage door opener. Clicking the button with one finger, I walked forward as the mighty door creaked its way open. I clipped the handy little device, and my only way back inside, to my belt. Then I went around the edges of the house and checked everything out, except the roof, which I couldn't reach without a ladder. And I didn't really feel like getting the ladder from the back of the garage. Today I wasn't going to do any work that I didn't absolutely have to.

I didn't really see any holes, except for one small dent close to the front door. My teeth clenched tightly together, and I kicked the wall with one foot. _So much for the day's wonderful little plan,_ I thought sarcastically. _Things never seem to work out for me. _

I bitterly decided that I would fix it later, and marched back into the house. I had much more pleasant things to do. I was going to find that stray dog if it was the last thing I did. Though hopefully, it wouldn't be.

Inside, the kitchen with filled with acrid, black smoke. It was curling out of the oven where I had put the biscuits in to cook, filling the whole room with an awful smell. I mentally listed every expletive I could remember while using a hot pad to pull the blackened chunks of dough from inside the oven. My house burning down would be just great. Perfect. Wonderful, even. Where would I go at night, when the infected attacked? The answer was nowhere. They were sleeping in every intact building in town.

I slid the inedible _things_ into the garbage, changing my mind about eating them even if they burned. Then I marched out of the room again. I slung my gun over my shoulder as I walked. Breakfast would just have to wait until later. I had important things to do. And I didn't want to think about the fact that those biscuits had been the last package of bread that I had owned. Probably the only one in town that hadn't rotted with the rest of the food.

I climbed into the car, my eyelids drooping with weariness. I almost considered staying in for the day, but didn't. Instead, I placed the gun almost reverently in its place of honor in the passenger seat, where I hoped a dog would be sitting one day, and started the engine. I carefully backed out, raising the garage door, then closed it tightly behind me. I peeled away from the curb, headed back to the park.

First, I had to make a detour. I made a hard left and headed up Main Street. I had noticed the day before that the graves had needed new flowers, the old ones being wilted and useless. So I was headed to the only flower shop in Central City, Main Street Florist. The electricity was still on there, the AC keeping the flowers cool, and I stopped by occasionally to give them fresh water and all that. And since the skylights and front windows were shattered out, none of the infected had taken up residence there.

Yet, anyway.

I parked on the curb and walked up the sidewalk to the gaping doorway, leaving my gun in the car. I paused to glance politely at the mannequin set up out front. I straightened his jacket, which was showing wear and tear of claw marks. Apparently, the infected didn't really like him too much. "Hi, Bob. How's it goin'?" I asked him with a wink, heading inside.

The mannequin that I had dubbed Martha was standing woodenly behind the counter, staring off into the distance. "Hey, Martha. Slow day?" I walked past the other 'customer', who was browsing through the selection of bright red and yellow roses. I wondered briefly if she had a thing for flowers. Every single time that I went in, she was standing there looking at the same flowers. It was kind of weird.

Opening the heavy cooler door, I stepped inside and surveyed the contents of the frosty little room. Things were starting to run low. And I seriously doubted that there was going to be a fresh run of new flowers anytime soon. I carefully picked up a handful of carnations, which were dyed a cheerful blue. I would have gotten black, but I was feeling depressed enough today as it was.

I strolled out of the cooler and slammed the door behind me. I locked up, then headed up to where Martha was waiting patiently. "Ten bucks? Wow, things are sure getting cheaper these days. I remember the days when carnations were four dollars a stem," I commented, fishing around in my pocket for the correct amount. I tossed the rumpled bill up on the counter, where it joined the rest of ten-and-five-dollar bills resting uselessly there. I offered her a cheery smile and a wave. She obviously didn't wave back, still staring off into nothingness.

"Well…have a nice day," I said quietly, turning and going back outside.

I ignored Bob this time, walking back to my car. I gently set the eight carnations on the passenger side seat, then started walking casually along the sidewalk. Here and there, 'citizens' of Central City were out for a morning stroll. None of them really paid me any attention, so I didn't look at them. Was it just me, or was everyone around here getting ruder? They didn't even say anything to me…

I shook my head, squeezing my eyes closed for a moment. _Man, you're really losing it, Wally, _I thought hopelessly. _Stop talking to the stupid statues and just talk to yourself. At least you'd actually get an answer then. _That kind of twisted logic actually made some sense. _Wow, if the League could only see you now…_

I veered off and pushed open the glass door of the DVD rental place. I had finished watching and returned the last movie that I had checked out, so I figured that it was time I went to get a new one. It was boring sitting around the house at night doing nothing. And it always helped if there was something relatively loud playing to tune out the noise from outside in the darkness.

I went over to the rack of newest releases, studying the large selection. None of them looked particularly entertaining. There was one possibility, about some guy getting weird phone calls that told him all these things he had to do. The back sounded kind of interesting. The lead guy was from another movie that I had watched a few weeks ago, the one about the large robots from another planet. That one had been a great movie.

I took the DVD with me towards the front desk. I looked around, frowning, as I happened to notice that Sharon wasn't in her place of honor behind the desk. "Where the heck did she…I mean, _it_ go?" I wondered aloud, stopping in my tracks. The mannequin had been there last week, when I had returned a different DVD. And I was really the only one around who would want to move it…

I crept stealthily forward, biting down on my lip. Maybe this was some prank or something. Yeah, that's right. _Who would pull this mysterious 'prank' on you, Wally? _I asked myself sarcastically. _The mannequin? Oh yeah, I'm sure that it's just playing hide-and-seek with you._

I put my arms on the cool surface of the counter and leaned over it, peering into the area behind it. 'Sharon' was sprawled on the floor, a jumbled mess of shredded limbs and torn wisps of fake hair. All that was missing was a few pints of blood to make it a scene from a horror movie.

My eyes widened in sudden understanding, just as something clanked loudly in the back room. I whirled to face the door on the far wall, and something white ghosted through the murky darkness. I muttered some unsavory words inside my mind as I began backing slowly towards the front door. I wasn't alone in here. At least one of the infected had taken up residence in the building. And the chances were, that there was probably more than one. The things usually traveled in packs.

My back slammed into something hard and clammy. Feeling the blood drain from my face, I whirled around towards the object. A particularly large one stood behind me, clothes in tatters and chest heaving up and down. My heart started racing, acting like it was trying to sprint a marathon right out of my chest. Palms slick with sweat, the DVD slipped from my grasp and landed against the carpet with a small thud. My stomach lurched, churning with fear.

He bared his teeth at me; they were yellow and crooked, pointed in odd directions like broken headstones in an old graveyard. He unleashed an unearthly hiss, glaring down at me with unmasked hate and fury.

_Great. Just great, _I thought, looking frantically around him towards the door. There was no way I could fight him; he looked like he had been a linebacker or something before being infected. This guy was _huge_. _At least there's only one so far, right? _I thought positively, backing slowly away.

A sharp claw sliced into the flesh of my arm through my shirt, and I looked down in shock. Crimson blood was already trickling profusely from the unexpected wound. I turned my head slightly, and saw four more looming up behind me, bloodlust in their eyes.

_Me and my big mouth. _

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	5. Chapter Four: Saved Unexpectedly

Chapter Four: Saved Unexpectedly

The zombie creature in front of me growled, the sound rattling from deep in its throat. I flinched at the deadly noise, head whipping back around to face the more immediate threat. I could feel the blood draining from my face as I stared into the cold, dark eyes. The fleshy and much too-pale skin beneath the scraps of ragged clothing was too close to me for my comfort.

I stared around the looming infected creature, numbly hearing one of the other four behind me snarling. The warm rays of the sunlight outside poured over the door jam, so close to me yet so far away. If I could just get past these guys, I'd be home free. There was no way that they would follow me out there, unless they _wanted_ to die. They'd turn into a boiling pile of ashes, or so I assumed.

I was jolted roughly from my musings as all five creatures lunged towards me. A sharp claw sliced into the exposed flesh of one of my arms, and I felt a drop of crimson blood slide down the skin. But I didn't dwell on my stinging injury. Instead, I dodged to the side, barely managing to avoid my attackers. Using the largest burst of super speed that I could manage, which wasn't very much, I threw my body at the counter. Slick marble propelled me across, and I landed on my knees on the other side, on top of Sharon the mannequin.

"Uh…sorry about that," I muttered, leaping back to my feet just as one of the zombies pounced, clawed hands extended towards my face. Its arms flailed wildly through the air, expression hard and twisted as it attempted to skewer me.

My eyes darted around the small space behind the corner in the seconds that seemed to take forever. To me, the zombie seemed suspended in midair, frozen. Reacting instantly, I bent down, grabbed securely onto one of Sharon's plastic arms, and ripped it off. I swung it up through the air like a baseball bat, slamming it with a sharp crack into the zombie's face.

It gave a muffled groan and dropped to the floor with a loud thud. "I was on the Central City Little League team once," I announced proudly, fingers tightening around the plastic arm while I stared the other five creatures down in a way I hoped to be supremely threatening.

Apparently, the others infected didn't particularly care about whether I had a plastic arm or not. Their leader, the guy whom I suspected had been a linebacker before becoming an undead zombie, hissed creepily. He raised his own arm and pointed a finger at me. It was obviously a signal for the others to hurry up and get rid of me before I knocked them all out with a baseball bat look-alike.

If only I could be so lucky.

My brain zoomed back into the here and now as I caught a flash of movement from the corner of one eye. I spun towards it, seeing a zombie flying towards me at the last second. Its features were twisted into an expression of animalistic rage, its white lips drawn back to reveal yellowed teeth.

I swung out violently with Sharon's arm, and it contacted with my current attacker's face. Blood exploded from its crooked nose, and it dropped onto the counter with a roar. Pens, papers, and various other objects went flying as it struggled, trying valiantly to reach me.

Realizing that trying to defend myself from the cramped space behind the counter wasn't working as well as I had hoped, I placed one hand on the surface and vaulted my body across the marble. My palm slipped slightly, and my legs flailed while I sped through the air. One sneaker crashed into the same zombie that had just attacked me, and it fell behind the counter with a thumping noise. I heard it growl with unsuppressed anger.

Landing in a crouch, I sprang back to my feet immediately. My gaze flickered towards the open doorway, which was now about a foot closer to me. If I could just run over there and get into the rays of sunlight, they wouldn't be able to even touch me…

Three hard weights slammed against my unguarded back. Before I could even blink, I was plummeting towards the floor. My mind unconsciously thought how much the impact was going to hurt, then I landed hard on my stomach. My face crushed painfully against the hard tile, and I both heard and felt something crack inside my nose. Wetness flooded from my nostrils, and I grimaced in pain. Great. A broken nose. Not only was I going to die, but I was going to have a broken nose while leaving this world to top it all off.

Claws scraped against my back, shredding my jacket and t-shirt and ripping the skin underneath. I arched from the floor, thrashing and kicking as I tried in vain to break free. The pain was almost unbearable; I could hardly stand it. I raised my arm and whacked blindly above my head with Sharon's torn-off appendage, but I didn't really hit anything.

Something hard shoved into the small of my back, and my body was crushed even more efficiently to the cold tile. Did these zombies really have to make my death so painful? Couldn't they just make it fast and get it over with already? Hot, disgusting breath assaulted my lungs, panting against the back of my neck.

An involuntary whimper was pulled from my lips before I managed to clench my teeth tightly together. I wanted to be strong, like the members of the League had been when faced directly with their coming deaths. Like Linda had been when she had become infected, and begged me to throw her in the fire pit of Metropolis.

The memory of her sweaty hair, plastered to her gray face, caused my stomach to lurch with nausea. I tasted bile in the back of my throat, and gagged violently. She had told me she loved me, even as I carried her limp and unresisting body to the acrid flames. Had let a reassuring smile for me grace her lips even as she vanished into the smoke and ashes.

A tear leaked from my eye, even as I was jolted back to the harsh reality I was currently living. Hooked talons were still tearing at my back and arms and head, and I could easily feel the blood oozing from the deep wounds. Blackness was already spotting across my vision, and everything was gray. I almost felt like I was floating. It was so weird…

But at least I would get to see Linda again. And Shayera and John. Even Bats, Superman, J'onn, and Diana. Who would dig a bogus grave for me, though? I seriously doubted that any of the mindless infected would put up a gravestone for me and draw my name on it in magic marker. I also doubted that they would bring me flowers from Central City's florist, and make sure to stop by and chat every week.

This thought was for some reason amusing to me. A small chuckle rocked my body, even as the intense pain started to fade. I couldn't hear the growling, the sound of my own skin tearing, or the splatter of blood hitting the floor. I couldn't smell the rotting scent of the infected on top of me, or see the blood dripping from my face and onto the ground before me. It was all black and calm, slowly disappearing.

And then, just as my eyes began to flutter closed, something sharp snapped against my cheek, and I groggily heard one of the infected standing above me roar with anger and pain. I shook my head weakly, trying to clear my vision. At the same second, the weight lifted from my back, making me feel strangely light.

I forced my eyes the rest of the way open, hearing odd growling noises behind me. Something crashed loudly, sounding vaguely to me like one of the movie cases falling over. I could clearly imagine the DVDs flying in all directions while I forced myself up to my elbows. Flames of agony traced their way down my spine, and I cringed, body shuddering involuntarily. My eyes stung as blood and sweat dripped into them, and I squinted. It was all I could do to keep them open.

I barely held back the unsavory words hovering on my lips, and managed to turn my head in the direction of all the weird noise. It took a few painful blinks to convince my incredulous gaze that I was actually seeing what I thought I was seeing.

The scraggly red-golden dog that I had seen at the park was racing in circles around the cluttered room, a few drops of blood dripping from its furry muzzle. The infected zombies were all chasing it, arms swiping at its tail as they attempted to catch it.

I heaved a deep breath, wondering what the heck was going on. But apparently I might have a choice about dying today, after all. It seemed that God or Hera or someone like that had intervened to let me live. And that was a chance that I was definitely going to grab while I still could.

Reaching out with one arm, the other shaking with the effort of holding up the rest of my weight, I wrapped my arms around the warped edge of the floorboard sticking up before me. Squeezing my eyes closed with the effort, I pulled myself forward. The sharp porcelain dug deeply into my hand, and more blood trickled from the skin. With a snap, it broke off and caused me to topple over.

Opening my eyes again and grimacing as more blood leaked into them, I pushed out with both sneakers. They slid for a moment on the tile, trying to get some traction, then made contact. I propelled myself forward a few inches, face contorting with the extreme effort of trying to move. Allowing myself to drop back onto my stomach, I extended both arms towards the light I could see before me. So…close…

Numb fingers grasping at the slippery floor, I grunted and strained to move forward another few inches. My arm muscles shook and spasmed with the hard work of fighting to pull my body forward. I pushed off again with my feet, and made it another couple of inches.

A yelp sounded through the air behind me, showing that the poor dog was in over its head against the five infected. Brow furrowing into a determined expression, I gritted my teeth together and shoved the toes of my shoes against the floor behind me once more. I shot forward another few inches, and my outstretched fingers were suddenly bathed in warm sunlight.

I had never thought that the sight of a couple of rays of sunlight could seem so welcoming, even after the last year of it protecting me from the zombie creatures prowling at night. Now I was even more grateful to see it. It meant the possibility of my making it out of this nest of vipers alive.

My hands attached themselves to the door jam with a savage fierceness. I jerked myself forwards as hard as I could, ignoring the screaming of my muscles. I moved forward just a little more, and rough concrete shoved against my stomach. Even the small pain was welcomed, as it meant that I was almost to safety.

The dog yelped again from behind me, and something crashed even louder than before.

Suddenly, a pair of sharp and pointed claws sunk into my ankles, right through the denim of my jeans. I cried out with surprise, and my head turned back towards the doorway of the DVD rental store. The lead zombie was gripping my ankle with one burly hand, skin protected from the harmful sunlight by a cleverly placed shadow. How convenient for him, but not so much for me.

A growl tore itself from my throat, surprising even me. I wasn't about to die at the hands of a mutated creep like this, after surviving attacks from him and his kind for a whole year. They had killed my friends, my family, my girlfriend, and everyone else in the world who hadn't become infected.

Before the League had ended, I had stopped baddies like Grodd, Brainiac, Lex Luthor, and Vandal Savage without hardly even breaking a sweat.

These stupid zombies weren't about to kill me.

I fiercely kicked out with my right leg, and it knocked against the infected's face. It roared, releasing its stone grip on my ankle for a second. That was all the time I needed, and I shoved my way out the doorway and into the sunlight. I spun around with a small burst of my old speed, turning to face the gaping doorway.

The zombie, blue veins pulsing in its pasty forehead, leaned forward to grab me again. It apparently had forgotten about the deadly sunlight streaming down from above my head. The light splashed surprising soundlessly against its rotting flesh. I had been expecting a dramatic drum roll or something like that. The creature shrieked, the high-pitched sound burning my ears. It jerked its arm away from the simple sunlight like it was an open flame, the skin bubbling and turning black. It began writhing again on the ground, screaming in agony.

I stared in horrified fascination, the smell of its burning flesh reaching my nostrils with the slight morning breeze. I pushed myself up to my hands and knees, then into a standing position. I swayed only slightly, managing to keep my legs from buckling out from under me.

I peered into the semi-darkness of the building, eyes adjusting enough to see white forms ghosting eerily through the racks of DVDs. I could see the dog racing past, one leg held up towards its chest. I could see dark blood staining the matted golden fur. As I gawked, one of the infected sprang from behind a shelf and landed on top of the dog. It let out a terrified yelp and started kicking its legs out in various directions.

My eyes slowly widened as fur went flying, and blood splattered the ground. The fur drifted back to the floor, sparkling in the sunlight. Just guessing, I thought that the dog was a Golden Retriever. My aunt had used to own a dog like that, and named him Jake. I could still remember playing in the yard at her and Uncle Barry's house when I was little, the loveable dog licking my face. Slobber had soaked me in a matter of seconds.

The dog whined, legs moving weakly as it tried to fight its way out from under the zombie.

Something inside me snapped. I saw red, and my hands clenched into fists. Glancing around in a wild frenzy, my gaze locked onto the mannequin that I commonly called Fred. He was propped up comfortably against the wall a few feet away. I lunged forward and grabbed his arm, then slung him towards the doorway. I couldn't even feel his weight.

"Sorry about this, Fred," I announced with a kind of grim determination. Then I pulled my arm back and flung the white statue wearing a green shirt and plaid shorts into the store. 'Fred' went sailing easily through the air, right on target. Before the infected attacking the dog could even react, the mannequin collided with him. He was slammed to the ground under it, freeing the dog from its clawed grasp.

I pursed my lips and whistled, eyes focused only on the dog. My heart thudded against my chest almost painfully as I watched it struggle to its feet. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, especially watching the other infected zombies moving towards it, trying as hard as they could to intercept its path to the door.

To me.

The dog limped at a fast gait in my direction, movements seeming painfully slow. It dodged one of the zombies, raced around the corner of one of the broken cases of DVDs, and reached the pool of sunlight across the wide threshold. It collapsed there, blood leaking from its various wounds. Wounds that it had gotten defending me, saving my life.

I ignored the charging zombies, knowing that they would be stopped by the sunlight, and bent over towards the dog. It whined softly, golden-brown eyes staring up at me pathetically. Its wavy tail thumped against the concrete weakly, and its head slumped back down. Unconcerned with the roaring nightmares eying me through the doorway, I scooped the dog into my arms and straightened back up.

"Jake," I whispered, voice small even to my own ears.

I turned and walked away towards my car, my new dog hanging limply in my arms.

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	6. Chapter Five: A Deadly Mistake

Chapter Five: A Deadly Mistake

Leaving the DVD rental shop behind me, I staggered in the direction of my car, gritting my teeth together. I fought to remain standing while still holding my new dog in my arms. Now that I was safe from the danger of the infected that had attacked me, the adrenaline rush was starting to wear off. In fact, I wasn't feeling so hot right about now.

I mentally recounted my injuries as my blurry eyes focused on the car; it was just down the street. If I could make it there, I would be home free. Let's see. I had a broken nose; a possible concussion; and a heck of a lot of cuts across my back, arms, shoulders, chest, and legs. How I was still standing, I had absolutely no idea.

Stumbling weakly, I leaned forward against the car, trying to avoid jostling Jake as much as possible. He whined slightly, shifting in my gentle grasp. I stared down at him, grimacing as I saw all the missing fur and blood leaking from his various wounds. Wounds that he had gotten defending me. It was basically my fault that he was hurt. And if he became infected, then that would also be my fault.

I shook my head numbly, unable to even bear the horrible thought, and fumbled with the fingers of one hand to open the car door. The metal handle snapped against my hand, painfully breaking the skin. I stared down at the offending mark against my pale skin. Oh well. What was one more lousy scrape? I was one big scrape right now. This thought was, for some reason, very amusing to me. A chuckle burst from my lips, shaking my entire body.

Jake whined, trying feebly to lick my face. This motion got my head back in the game, and I bit down hard on my lower lip to hold in my deranged laughter. Jerking as hard as I could on the car door, I forcibly creaked it open. Turning my body slightly to the side so that Jake was in front of the open door, I slipped him down into the passenger seat. His bloody body crushed the eight carnations that had previously been sitting there, but I ignored that fact.

Closing the door, and being careful to avoid crushing his limp tail, I walked around the car towards the driver's seat. Blackness blurred unexpectedly across my vision, and I stumbled wildly. I thrust my hand out and grabbed blindly at the hood of the car to keep from falling. That was just what I would have needed: more bruises to go with my bruises.

I blinked three times before the weird spots faded, allowing me to see again. Sunlight streamed against my face, stinging the jagged slashes across my exposed face. I winced, then continued gamely forward. I was almost there. Three steps…two steps…there. I grabbed at the car handle on this door, missing twice and bashing my hand against the metal surface of the door.

Finally heaving the door open, I basically let myself slump into the car, swinging my legs after the rest of my body. I had to sit very still for a moment, until the world finally stopped spinning crazily. My eyelids drooped groggily, then I hurriedly fumbled for the keys. I carelessly shoved the gun out of my personal space. Luckily for me, the keys were still dangling from the ignition. If I had dropped them outside somewhere, I don't think I could have summoned enough strength to get out of the car again to search for them.

I started the car's engine, then dizzily jerked it into drive. My foot, almost under its own control, dropped heavily onto the gas. The car shot forward, slamming into the wooden telephone pole directly in front of it. The wood splintered and screeched loudly in protest, and narrowly missed landing on the roof of the car. It landed only a few feet away, crashing rather loudly against the asphalt.

I didn't spare much thought to the innocent telephone pole that I had downed. It wasn't as if anyone would be missing their phone connection because of my actions. Unless the infected had evolved enough to chat back and forth about when they would next ambush me. I seriously doubted this fact.

Slamming the car into reverse now, I speedily backed up, then jolted towards home. I didn't bother staying below Central City's speed limit, as there were no friendly neighborhood policemen around to stop me. And since the white 45 miles an hour sign that I sped past was torn to shreds like cheese, likely by the claws of a zombie, I didn't think that they would mind me speeding a bit.

An insane giggle burst from my lips, making me sound just a little like the Joker. This made another laugh bubble out, and I barely managed to keep from veering off the road. Imagine what Bats would think if he could see me now. He'd think I was really the Joker, impersonating Wally West.

I snickered again, and the wheel jerked to one side, pulling easily from my unsteady grasp. The beat-up vehicle swerved towards the ditch, and I barely managed to jerk it back on course in time. Jake whined as he was thrown roughly into the floor.

"Sorry about that, boy," I slurred drunkenly, turning the car into a hard right, tires squealing against the rough surface of the road beneath it. If this poor thing survived the trip home, it would be a miracle.

I pulled up in front of the correct house, gravel crunching beneath my tires. I hurried to press the right button on the garage door opener, which was clipped to the visor. The door seemed agonizingly slow as it ground open, creaking loudly. I jolted forward, speeding under the edge of the door when it was up just enough to fit through.

Jake whined again, scrunching down in the floor as we passed under the looming door.

I put the car in park, then switched off the engine. Kicking the door open, I hooked the gun's strap around one arm. With the other, I gently pulled Jake out, settling him into my careful arms again. I left the garage door up and car door open, planning to come back later for them. I had plenty of time…

Wandering over to the door leading inside, I staggered my way inside. I put Jake down carefully on the carpet, kicking the door closed with one foot. This put me off-balance, and I nearly did a face-plant on the floor. I managed to catch myself just in time. Jake, whining, disappeared somewhere into the house, and I watched him go. My legs shook fiercely with the strain of holding my body upright.

I just couldn't go any further. My legs gave out on me, and I collapsed to the carpet. The gun clattered from my shaking hands, landing beside me. Everything faded to black, my pain disappearing into nothingness as I slipped into blessed unconsciousness.

---

"_Wally…" The whisper was torn from her cracked lips, so soft that I could hardly even hear it. She took a deep breath, and it rattled throughout her chest. It was starting to look sunken, sort of caved-in. Her face was gray and sweaty, and her hair was plastered across her forehead._

_I swallowed hard, fighting the nausea that was boiling up inside me. I refused to believe that Linda had the virus that was all over the news, the one that was infecting thousands of people worldwide. Not my Linda, my fiancée. She had just agreed to marry me two weeks ago; she couldn't already be dying. Our life together was just beginning!_

"_Are you feeling okay? Not too hot or cold or anything?" I carefully adjusted the thin blanket arranged around her limp legs, biting down hard on my lip. _

"_I…I'm fine, Wally," she breathed almost silently, her efforts at answering me almost painful. A grimace crossed her face, and she shuddered violently._

"_Here, get another drink." I leaned forward, reaching for the half-full glass of water on the bedside table. She'd hardly been drinking any of it, and I was having to practically force it down her throat. I couldn't afford to let her become dehydrated, not when she was already this sick._

"_N…no," she murmured, eyes filling up with unshed tears at the worried look I could feel on my face. She lifted one hand towards my face, arm shaking with the strain of moving. She brushed the back of her hand against my cheek; it felt like sandpaper. "I love you, Wally West. I'm just sorry that…sorry that we won't be able to make a life together." She sniffled, a single tear leaking from one reddened eye._

"_Don't say that, Linda," I hissed urgently, leaning down to brush a kiss softly against her forehead. "You aren't going to die, you hear me? You don't have that idiotic disease. It's just the flu, okay?" My tone was frantic, and even I could see that I was trying desperately to convince myself of this._

"_I love you so much," she managed to choke out, letting her head drop onto the pillow beneath it. Her body went limp, then her eyelids floated groggily closed._

_Frantic, I checked her pulse. I was relieved to find it still beating slowly beneath my hand. I let a rush of air leave my lungs, leaning back in my chair. I left her hand in between both of mine, ignoring the strange and horrifying feeling of her rough skin. It felt almost scaly, like a lizard._

"_You're not going to die," I mumbled sleepily, the strain of the past 48 hours finally catching up with me. I struggled to keep my eyelids open. "You're not going to die, Linda. I love you; don't leave me." I felt tears gathering in my eyes for what felt like the hundredth time, and blinked furiously._

_A hand lightly touched my shoulder, and I leapt to my feet. Dropping Linda's hand from mine, I spun around at super speed to face the threat._

"_Wally, it's okay. It's just me," Shayera told me soothingly, speaking in a low voice. She glanced around me towards the sleeping Linda, a seemingly permanent line furrowed across her forehead. _

_I could feel my chest heaving up and down, and tried to calm myself a little. My heart was racing, beating loudly against the inside of my chest. I imagined that everyone could hear it, even people in Gotham or Metropolis. "Wh…what is it, Shay?" I asked her tiredly, shoulders slumping._

_Her gaze darted away from mine, focusing back on Linda. "How's she doing?" she spoke up softly, corners of her lips turning down._

_I heaved a sigh. "Not…not too good," I admitted quietly, voice breaking._

"_Oh, Wally." She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me, giving me a hug. I melted into her sisterly embrace, feeling the tips of her soft, feathered wings wrapping around my shoulders. _

_After a moment, I pulled away. I wiped hurriedly at my eyes, hoping that Shayera wouldn't notice. "So…uh…why'd you come over?" I questioned her roughly, clearing my throat to get rid of all evidence that I'd been about to break down and cry. My eyes suddenly widened as I thought of something horrifying. "Is John…?"_

_She cringed, wings drooping from where they protruded out of her back. "John is fine." Her voice was grave, and I only then noticed the tears pooling against her emerald irises. Something was wrong, I could tell._

"_What? What is it?" My voice came out slightly shriller than normal, but I was too freaked out to worry about it._

"_B…Ba…" She couldn't even form the words, shoulders beginning to shake with suppressed sobs._

"_Shayera! What is it?" I cried, frantic now. I grabbed her shoulders, shaking her gently. She never cried, so why was she doing so now? What could have happened that was that bad…_

"_Batman. Bruce," she croaked brokenly. "Oh, Wally. He's _dead_!"_

_---_

"_No_!"

I jolted awake, eyes flying open. My body was still sprawled limply on the carpet, dried bloodstains covering the white expanse all around me. My heart was pounding hard, and my face was wet with tears. I couldn't feel my broken nose anymore, so I assumed what was left of my powers had healed it, though probably crooked.

Why the heck had I been sentenced to _that_ dream, the horrifying and painful memory of when I had discovered that Bats was dead? I'd already had it several times before; how many times was I going to see it played back in my mind's eye? When would it _stop_?

I slowly sat up, body stiff and joints creaking. I closed my eyes partway, trying to give myself some motivation to get upstairs. Who cared about cleaning up my injuries? Who cared about staying alive? If I could just get to my bed, I'd be happy.

Shoving at my gun, the strap of it tangled hopelessly around my legs, I frowned. What had woken me up, anyway? More usually came after where my dream had ended today, like the sobbing and mourning of Bruce. So it had to have been something from the real world that had woken me.

Then I heard it. An insistent scratching sound, the sound of dull claws digging frantically into something.

My body jerked in shock, and fear shot through me. What the heck was that? I moved slowly to my knees, ignoring the pain rippling through my torn back, and began crawling towards the noise. It sounded like it was coming from behind the couch…

I stuck my head around, peering cautiously between the wall and the couch. My numb fingers clutched at the gun frantically, just in case something was back there that I didn't particularly want to meet up with.

Jake was huddled into the impossibly small place, still bleeding a little from his various wounds. Crimson blood was smeared against the yellowed wallpaper, which would have given my poor Aunt Iris a heart attack, had she known. I didn't dwell on this, staring at my new dog with some worry.

He was digging into the carpet with all the feeble strength that he possessed, jerky movements urgent and frantic. The breath that exploded from his small lungs was labored. I noticed that all of the white carpeting was shredded away, revealing the concrete beneath it. What was wrong with him? Was he scared of something? A pathetic whine cut from Jake's throat, and he looked up at me with terrified brown eyes. The fear was so real, so complete, that it shocked me for a minute.

A loud screeching sound echoed from just outside the wall, along with the sound of sharp claws drawing their way across the bricks. Another, lower-pitched growling answered the screech, followed by the sound of a loud crash from the garage.

My heart lurched, threatening to stop, and sweat beaded instantly across my brow. I could taste bile in the back of my throat. Not stopping to consider my injuries, I whipped my head wildly towards the window across the room, and saw no welcoming rays of sunlight floating through the boards nailed there.

It was dark outside, and I hadn't secured the house.

The infected were inside.

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Okay, guys. Please review, despite the short wait that you had for this chapter! :) Um...please?


	7. Chapter Six: A Surprising Houseguest

**A/N: **Thanks so much to The-Lady-Isis, skitterish, Jovianokamigirl, Nightwatcher'sunknowngirl, Flightgirl, and Churnok for actually reviewing on the last chapter. So this new update is dedicated to all of you. Thanks so much for the feedback! :)

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Chapter Six: A Surprising Houseguest

My heart slammed painfully against the inside of my ribs, and my breath came out laboring and panicky. This was what I had always feared would happen, my worst nightmare. The infected zombies were inside the house, and it wasn't likely that I could beat all of them. They would tear me to shreds with their claws first, and it was unlikely that I would be able to heal very well from that, even with my powers.

How could I have been so _stupid_? I'd known what would happen if I ever left the house unsecured at night for a whole year now. And now, just because I'd had a broken nose and a few measly injuries, I'd forgotten to lock up behind myself. This was the kind of mistake that could cause me to lose my life, the thing I'd been guarding so preciously for all this time. And now Jake, my new dog, was also involved. If I died, so would he.

I couldn't let that happen.

I leapt to my feet, clutching the gun tightly in both hands. I stared down at my knuckles, which I absently noticed were very white, and took a deep breath. I could do this. Never mind that there were probably hundreds of savage creatures that were lusting to tear me to shreds lurking out in the garage. I wasn't about to let them all kill me, and that was that. Now I just had to convince the infected of this, which would probably not be the easiest thing in the world.

The door leading in from the garage rattled ominously, and I backed closer to where Jake huddled behind the couch. I bit down so hard on my bottom lip that I actually tasted blood. Hopefully this wouldn't end up being my dramatic last stand. I wanted to survive tonight, if it was at all possible. I glanced frantically over my shoulder, checking the entrance to the stairs, which was located directly behind me. If I had to, I could always make a break for it to the top floor. It might be possible to barricade myself in one of the bedrooms.

A sound like crashing thunder erupted, and Jake let out a bloodcurdling yelp of fear, struggles to dig through the floor suddenly increasing even more. I whipped my head back around to face the coming threat, and saw three creatures standing in the doorway across from me. Their pasty white chests were heaving up and down, and blue veins stood out prominently from their nearly transparent skin. The orbs glistening from their faces were cruel and cold, showing no emotion whatsoever. The one in the lead snarled, the sound echoing through the horrifying silence, then lunged forward to meet me.

A choking sound managed to tear itself from my throat, and I stumbled backwards so that I was pressed firmly against the wall. Everything seemed to be in slow motion, so I assumed that what was left of my speed had kicked in. I cocked off the safety, preparing to fire, then narrowed my eyes in on the targets. I quickly inhaled, as I'd been taught when I was younger by my Uncle Barry, then raised the rifle so that it was pointed at the first creature that was looming up in my vision. I tightened my finger on the trigger, then squeezed it hard. A bullet exploded from the end of the gun, the recoil forcefully shoving the gun back up against me.

I watched with a detached feeling as the bullet slammed into the infected, then everything seemed to speed back up. It jerked in pain, howling, then dropped motionlessly to the rug. Blood started leaking from the hole I had put through its chest, which caused a grim sort of satisfaction to blossom inside me. There was one less zombie monster in the world, thanks to me.

I couldn't dwell on this for very long, as the other two were right behind the first one. I quickly pulled the trigger twice more, downing both of them. One of the bullets went all the way through, slamming into the wall behind the creature as it fell.

It wasn't as like I was already safe, though. A whole sea of ugly creatures was swarming through the door leading from the garage, headed right for me. It seemed like every single one in the entire city was here, ready to get a piece of me. And _Jake_. I swallowed back the bile at this horrible thought, then started firing again. I kept my shots calm and steady, though my hands kept shaking wildly. I knew that if I wasted any of my bullets, this wouldn't end well.

Though I already had my doubts about exactly how this was going to end. The odds weren't really swinging in my favor.

My eyes darted around wildly as I fired again, and the butt of the gun slammed into my forearm once more. Two of the infected had stopped to gnaw hungrily at one of the downed corpses, having smelled the scent of blood that was heavy on the air. I watched them claw mindlessly at each other, fighting over the bloody scraps. Why, I didn't really know. There was plenty for them, layering the floor of the room.

A sharp movement from the corner of my eye suddenly registered with me, and I turned towards it. An infected was aiming for the other end of the couch, trying to get to Jake. A white-hot rage exploded inside of me. _No one_ was touching my dog! I aimed again, and shot the bullet right through the side of the zombie's skull. It dropped like a stone, life instantly draining from its unmoving body. Jake whined helplessly, and I could see him shaking and shuddering with fear.

Yet another of the creatures, hungry growls shaking its pasty body, threw itself carelessly at me. Its sharp claws were extended, waiting to rip through my flesh and tear it to ribbons. My finger pulled backwards, and a bullet shoved its way through the thing's chest. My aim was actually pretty well, despite my shaking hands. The shakes were starting to get even worse, as more and more of the creatures poured into the house. They were endless.

And they were completely destroying the inside of the house, the house that had belonged to my aunt and uncle. I almost couldn't stand it. Pain stabbed through my chest as I thought of loosing this place, the last memory that I had left of the family that I had lost.

I pulled back on the trigger for what felt like the hundredth time, and was horrified when nothing at all happened. I tried again, but no bullets exploded their way from the barrel of the rifle. I tried one more time for good measure, but still nothing. The gun was apparently out of bullets. "Damn it!" I cursed violently, despair coming alive inside me as I realized that my lifeline, the one thing keeping me alive, was completely used up. And I didn't exactly have time to refill the thing, seeing how I was in the middle of the battle for my life. I had to get upstairs. It was my only chance at managing to survive the night.

Swinging the useless weapon like a baseball bat, it crashed into the side of a looming infected's head. It fell like a downed tree, blood spurting from the deep wound. "Jake!" I shouted loudly, moving to make for the stairs. I swung the rifle again, crashing it into another zombie. The dog didn't move from his hunched position behind the couch, and I cursed again. He was obviously too scared to come out, and he didn't exactly know to come when called yet, as I had just called him Jake aloud once before.

A creature reached out and clawed at my ankle, slicing through the skin, and I cried out in pain. The cry turning into a growl of rage, I swung the makeshift bat into its head, taking it and the one behind it down. I dodged another monster, heading towards the couch.

"Jake!" I reached into the small space, aiming to pick him up and carry him to safety. He growled, brown eyes terrified, and snapped viciously at my hand. I yelped, jerking both hands back, then felt another pair of sharp teeth sink into my arm. Whirling around, I kicked out at the creature as hard as I could. It fell over with a roar, snarling.

Not bothering to call my dog again, I wrapped both arms around him and jerked him roughly out from the hiding place. I didn't waste time on being careful with him, staggering with his weight. He bit down on my bare arms savagely, struggling and clawing as he tried to get free. "Trust me, buddy, I'm doing this for your own good," I grunted, out of breath. I jumped towards the staircase, trying to ignore the pain as my dog attacked me, movements full of pure terror.

I dropped Jake on the fourth step, and he scrambled up the carpeted steps, shaking like a helpless leaf caught in the wind. I started after him, watching as he vanished into the bedroom at the top of the stairs, then a weight landed painfully in the center of my back. I went down hard, losing my balance, already feeling something sharp stabbing at me and tearing my shirt even more. I went rolling down the stairs like a log, kicking as I tried to loose my passenger.

The zombie lost its grip and stopped at one of the steps, unmoving, while I fell the rest of the way down. I landed at the bottom of the staircase, whole body screaming in agony, and found myself unable to move for a few seconds. I was thankful that the living room was carpeted, or I would have had a heck of a lot of a more painful landing.

A creature grasped at one leg, and I kicked out with the said appendage wildly. Rolling with the movement, I tossed the infected away from me and staggered to my feet. I swayed dizzily, nearly dropping back to my knees, and saw the same infected coming back at me. Grabbing at my rifle again with numb fingers, I stuck out with all the strength that I possessed. The thing went down with a croak, blood soaking the carpet beneath it.

As I turned to run back up the stairs, my eyes went past the hordes of monsters and landed on the small table beside the doorway of the kitchen. Several pictures and knickknacks that had belonged to Aunt Iris were placed decoratively there, and somehow hadn't been shattered yet. My gaze zeroed in on the middle photo, surrounded by an expensive golden frame. It was of my aunt and uncle and I, taken when I had been about nine. I had been looking particularly annoyed at the moment, having been caught by surprise at my birthday party. I had never liked having my picture taken. Resting beside it was an unframed photo, taken of Linda when we had first begun dating. It was the only one that I actually had of her.

Swallowing hard, I turned and raced towards the table. I couldn't just leave either of those pictures there to be destroyed by these things. They both meant so much to me, especially the only visual memory that I had left of Linda. I had to get them, even if it meant the death of me. I could only hope that this wouldn't be the case.

Swinging the rifle like a machete, I made my way as fast as I could towards the small table. The sea of infected closed in around me, blocking the only way back towards the staircase. I inhaled deeply, my lungs feeling like they were closing up, and dodged a reaching pair of claws. Reaching my destination, I grabbed frantically at both photos. I bit down on one side of Linda's photo, holding it firmly between my teeth. I used my free hand to clutch at the frame of Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris' picture.

My eyes widened as I whirled back around to face the sea of infected. There were at least a hundred of them crowded into the small living room, and all of them seemed to have my impending doom on their minds. At least none of them seemed to be interested in going up the stairs after Jake; they would probably take care of that after I died.

The closest of the infected, a fairly large guy, tossed his body over mine. The rifle was torn from my grasp, becoming lost in the oncoming crowd. I choked, trying to gasp in air around Linda's picture, and held onto the framed photo with both hands. Deciding that I really had no other choice, I crushed it down onto the thing's head. Glass shattered loudly, and it dropped like a stone, turning into a deadweight that pinned my legs to the ground.

I reached out desperately with one hand, and threaded my fingers through the carpet. Groaning with the pain radiating through the arm, I pulled myself out from the creature, barely missing getting my head bitten off by another infected. I staggered into a standing position, jumping to one side with just a touch of speed. I fumbled for the rifle, feeling better just holding it.

I shot a wild glance towards the stairs, but there were at least twenty of them between me and my ultimate destination. Inhaling deeply, I tried to make my voice come out strong, despite the photo blocking most of the sound. "Who's ready to get some?" Almost all of them reacted to my voice, except for the ones hungrily attacking their fallen buddies. They froze, staring at me with savage and cold looks, then surged forward as one.

_Me and my big mouth. _Brandishing the empty rifle like a club, I waited for them all to come to me. I swung it as hard as I could, throwing it against the seemingly unstoppable force coming against me. My arm moved just a little too fast, a blur of color to even my own eyes, and a joyless smirk twisted my lips. At least some of my powers came back when I needed them. _Let's see how they like a taste of the Fastest Man Alive, _I thought grimly, then carelessly jumped forward into the swarm. I didn't really care if I died or not at this point. What did I have to live for?

I couldn't keep track of how many of the things I knocked over, drawing blood when I whacked the rifle sharply against their bald heads. More cruel satisfaction was forming inside me as I watched them fall by my own hands. The faces of Shayera, John, Bats, Supes, J'onn, and Diana flashed past my eyes, along with Linda and everyone else that I had ever known. Everyone that these horrible things had taken from me. I was getting my revenge, and I was loving every moment of it.

Yet another infected jumped at me, pale skin glistening in the light from the ceiling fan. I started to attack this one like I had all the others, then froze in horror. I stumbled backwards, stomach twisting and lurching. I tasted bile in the back of my throat, and my head was very suddenly spinning. Uncle Barry stared back at me with an animalistic look on his changed face, showing his yellowed fangs as he eyed me for a moment.

Memories exploded through my head. Uncle Barry taking me to softball games. Buying me presents for my birthday. Teaching me about my new powers. Watching the news with me when Kid Flash was shown. Acting so proud of me, always.

My back brushed up against another infected, and a startled gasp tore itself from my throat, causing me to nearly drop Linda's picture. I shook my head, trying to clear the cloudy daze that had ruthlessly attacked it. I was also suddenly very aware of the aches and pains throughout my body, and the blood trickling profusely from a wound above my left eyebrow.

I had to get out of here. I couldn't kill my own uncle, even if he wasn't really the same man that he had been. I just couldn't. Not with all the memories I still had of him, not after all he had done for me throughout my life.

I turned and shoved my way towards the stairs, ignoring the claws and teeth piercing my skin as I brushed past the infected. They were even wilder than when they had first got there, tasting the scent of my spilled blood on the air. I threw myself onto the first step, then stumbled upwards, taking them two at a time. A clammy hand brushed against my back, but I whirled and slammed it away with the rifle.

Finally reaching the top of the steps, heart pounding and feeling like it had taken an eternity to reach my destination, I tossed my body at the doorway where Jake had disappeared into earlier. Letting the photos and gun slip from my fingers towards the ground, I spun to face the doorway again. My eyes widened as I took in the sheer number of creatures racing up the stairs towards me. There were so _many_ of them. How could a mere door keep them all out? This was _hopeless_.

Determined to try anyway, I reached for the door and slammed it closed. Fumbling with one sweaty hand, I turned the lock with a loud click. Pressing my back up against the door, I stared frantically around the small and dark room. Seeking gaze landing on the bed, I left my post and jumped towards it. I fought to ignore the bloodcurdling sounds of the infected clawing at the other side of the door, wrapping both hands around the footboard of the bed.

Using all of the strength actually left in my weakened body, I tugged the bed forward. As I did this, I saw Jake huddled motionlessly against the dresser, eyes pressed closed. Muscles straining, I gritted my teeth tightly together and lugged the bed up against the door. I shoved it until it was pressed tightly against it, barricading it securely. Now I would be safe during the night, unless some of them managed to get through the wood. Then both Jake and I would be doomed.

I took several deep and cleansing breaths, concentrating only on the feeling of my lungs inflating then deflating. I was safe. It was going to be okay. I would live to see the next day, then I could take care of killing the rest of the monsters inhabitating my home. Something to look forward to.

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the horror of the past few minutes, seeing it imprinted against the backs of my eyelids. And there would be even more left for in the morning, reserved for the other things downstairs. I slid down the end of the bed, feeling tears pricking the backs of my eyelids. A single tear escaped, trickling down my face.

Why was I cursed to this horrible existence, the only man left alive in a race of bloodthirsty killers? Was it my destiny to kill those that had once been as human as myself, to hear their dying screams and shrieks every time I tried to sleep? Would I one day die, only to be torn to shred by the infected instead of buried?

Broken sobs shook my shoulder, and a choking sound bubbled up from my throat. I couldn't even really feel the pain coursing through me anymore. I was just so _tired_, tired of all this grotesque horror that plagued me every single day…

Something rustled loudly in the corner, the sound of something brushing against another object, and my heart stopped. Jake was against the dresser, and I knew that he wouldn't have moved again so soon. We weren't alone in here. Something _else_ was in here with us. Another infected, ready to lunge and tear my throat out.

I involuntarily stopped breathing, unable to keep it up. Quivering with fear, I reached out slowly with one hand, fumbling silently for the rifle that I had abandoned. If I was going down, I was going down fighting. My numb fingers closed around the cool butt of the rifle, its touch reassuring.

Inhaling once more, possibly the last time I would ever take a breath, I forced my eyes open and stumbled to my feet. Crushing my lips together, I forced the rifle to point towards the threat. My hands shook so hard that I could barely keep it steady. I squinted, trying to see through the murky darkness.

The shadowy figure standing calmly across from me stepped closer, movements exaggeratedly slow. "Easy now," came the strangely familiar voice, the figure holding up both hands like he was trying to calm me down. "Not that a bullet could actually kill me, mind you, but getting shot is a horrible nuisance." The figure's face suddenly became clear to my eyes, revealing a black beard and dark eyes.

My mouth gaped open as I took him in, ears burning with the sound of another human voice besides my own. The rifle slipped from my limp fingers. Surely I was dreaming. This couldn't be possible. "Vandal Savage?" I blurted out in shock, legs feeling like they might give out.

"I believe that it was my name the last time I checked," the immortal stated, acting as though legions of monsters weren't currently attacking the door of the room we were hiding inside. "But I'm not exactly acquainted with you. Am I correct in assuming that you're Flash, Wally West? The files I checked seemed certain, but perhaps I have the wrong address."

I shook my head numbly. Of all the people to be alive, why did it have to be _him_?

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Please review, everybody! :D


	8. Chapter Seven: Vandal's Proposition

Chapter Seven: Vandal's Proposition

"For some reason, I get the distinct impression that you aren't happy to see me," Vandal stated with an arrogant smirk.

"What. Are. You. Doing. Here," I ground out, stubbornly refusing to think of the certain black-cowled person that I sounded like right then. The memories were too painful, and I didn't want to break down in front of Vandal Savage of all people. He already knew my secret identity; he wasn't _about_ to see me crying.

I folded my arms tightly across my chest, but made sure to keep a good grip on the rifle. I wasn't sure that I really liked having Vandal Savage in my house, even if he _was_ the first living human that I had seen in a whole year. And him knowing my secret identity didn't really sit well with me, either. But I guess it didn't really matter. It wasn't like he could go to the press and announce that he knew who the Flash was. There wasn't any press to even go to anymore.

"I thought it was obvious." Vandal leaned casually against the wall, looking way too smug for the current situation. He didn't seem to care that howling zombies were clawing at the other side of the door that barricaded us into the hopefully safe room.

"Not really." I gestured sharply with the business end of the rifle. "What's to stop me from throwing you right back out there with the infected?" I added coldly. He'd done too many things against the League to make me ever feel sorry for him, even if we probably were the last two humans alive on the face of the planet.

Vandal chuckled unbelievingly. "_You_ would _never_ throw me out. I fought you and the rest of the League long enough to know that, West. You're too kind hearted for your own good, especially in these…_trying_ times." He paused, dark eyes drifting to my feet. I didn't follow his gaze, keeping my own eyes locked on his face. "And going back for those photos was completely idiotic. You could have been killed while risking your life for those stupid scraps of paper. And then how would I have been able to–"

I didn't wait to hear what he said next. Instead, I dropped the gun and lunged forward towards him with a surprisingly fast burst of speed. I didn't dwell on the fact that I hadn't moved that fast in quite a long time, instead grabbing Vandal by his shirt with both hands and pressing him up against the wall with all my strength. "I've changed since then, Savage," I snarled, my tone matching the wordless viciousness of the howling infected trying to force their way inside. "So don't act like you can walk all over me. I'm not about to give you special privileges, just because we're the last people on Earth."

"I didn't expect you to," Vandal answered calmly. He stared into my eyes without the slightest hint of fear, much to my disappointment. I guess I wasn't as scary as I had hoped I would be.

"Why are you here? It can't have been a coincidence that you went to the Metro Tower, looked me up in the files and figured out that I was alive, then came all the way to Central City, just to find me," I pointed out, still holding him against the wall. My cut and bleeding arms were starting to shake with the effort of holding him up, but I tried not to let it show on my face. "I doubt that even _you're_ that lonely for company."

"How do you know that I'm not looking for a new best friend?" Vandal still seemed way too calm about the fact that I was holding him several inches off the ground. He probably knew that my arms were going to give out soon enough, causing me to let him drop back to the floor again.

"Fine. I think I'll just toss you out there with the infected, then." I let go of his shirt, pretending that I just didn't want to anymore. It would be better for him to think that, instead of realizing that I simply didn't have the strength. But from the smug way that he was looking at me, he seemed to already know.

"They won't be able to kill me, you know. Just be a horrible nuisance."

"No, but it'll make _me_ feel better."

"And what," he asked me, "if I told you that I could cure every mutated creature on this planet, with your help?"

Despite my immense dislike for him, I felt my heart rate speed up at his shocking words. Stumbling away from him, I sank down against the side of the bed, beside my gun and the two pictures I had rescued. My eyes were probably unbelievably wide, and I felt kind of lightheaded. Was he right? Could he actually _cure the infected_? Help me save my uncle and everyone else that I cared about? The ones who weren't already dead, anyway.

"I trust that you have decided to believe me?" Vandal stood before me, raising one hand to examine his fingernails aloofly.

"How?" I demanded breathlessly. It was all I could do to actually speak, as it felt like all the air had been painfully squeezed from my lungs.

"From what I read of your files, you seem to be some kind of forensic scientist at the Central City police station. Surprisingly. I never would have pegged you for someone so brilliant."

I stared at him silently, waiting for him to hurry up and get to the point. Surely he couldn't be serious. How could he be telling the truth? It was unthinkable to imagine a cured world, one where all the infected were changed back to humans.

"And you're immune to the virus, yes? The files said that the League experimented on your blood and found high levels of antitoxins." Vandal studied me appraisingly.

"What has this," I demanded, "got to do with me?" I picked up Linda's photo and clutched it gently in one hand. My fiancée's dark eyes sparkled up at me, looking black instead of brown thanks to the shiny silver dress that she had been wearing when the picture was taken. She had worn it almost every time we had gone out on a date, because I'd once told her that it was my favorite of her clothes. It made her look like a fairy tale princess…or how I imagined one would look, anyway.

I blinked rapidly as a sheen of tears filled my eyes. For the moment, I was very thankful that the room was so dark, since I hadn't bothered to flip on the light switch. Vandal couldn't see me crying and start to mock me. That would probably be all I needed to finish losing it. And I didn't particularly want to kill the guy, even though he was a major jerk.

"Why, it's got _everything_ to do with you," Vandal said, sounding surprised. I refused to look at him, so I didn't know what his expression was. "If you'll take me to the Central City forensics department, I can get all the chemicals we'll need. And after that, all I'll need is a few samples of your blood."

"What, so you're saying that you can cure the whole world just with a few bottles of chemicals and several pints of my blood?" I glanced up from Linda's gorgeous face, clearing my throat when my voice cracked.

"It's a lot more complicated than that, West. But yes, that's what I'm saying."

"Then explain it to me."

"It's much too complicated for even your mind to process, especially since you seem to have lost most of your abilities." Vandal said this matter-of-factedly, probably knowing that it was just rekindling my Irish temper even more. And he probably didn't even care, to be honest.

"I'm _sure_ that I can keep up," I enunciated through gritted teeth.

"I'm not one to waste time, even though I have so much of it. So all you need to know is that I need to get over to the forensics department tomorrow. Then we'll come back here and I can work on developing the formula."

I lifted my eyes and stared directly at him. "You do know that anywhere from fifty to a hundred zombies are probably hiding in that building, right?" I actually knew this for a fact. I'd once tried to go over there right after the virus got loose, for some idiotic reason. I'd obtained a broken hand and several scrapes for my efforts. Obviously though, I'd survived.

"Yes, of course." Vandal rubbed his chin musingly. "And that is the reason why you're going to be taking your gun and that dog of yours."

I stared blankly at him. "First of all, this gun is out of bullets. And the whole supply is downstairs in a drawer in the kitchen."

"You really _are_ a moron," Vandal said admiringly. "Why didn't you prepare a safe room like this one, with ammunition and food, in the event of an emergency? You couldn't have thought that you could keep the creatures out forever."

"And two," I went on, completely ignoring his blunt interruption, "Jake is no attack dog. In case you can't tell, he's terrified of those things." I looked towards my new dog, who was still huddled against the dresser with his eyes tightly pressed closed. His claws were scrabbling uselessly against the thick carpet as he tried to burrow into the floor.

"Why on earth did you rescue it, then? The dog is completely useless, just a waste of food and water. And neither of those are going to last forever, you know. I'm not going to let it eat up our food supply."

I straightened, scowling at him. "_Jake_ is _not_ useless. And it's _my_ food supply. You're going to have to forage for your own nourishment, because I am _not_ sharing," I said firmly.

"Hmmm, so rude. The end of the world most certainly did not teach you any manners. And your words seem to indicate that you're almost out of food, anyway. I guess you'll have to use the gun and go hunting tomorrow after getting the chemicals. I saw plenty of uninfected wildlife in the area, which is quite a surprise. I assume that there's something in their blood that keeps them pure from the virus. That would explain why I haven't been attacked by a pasty pigeon or an undead deer."

I rubbed at both eyes, heaving a deep sigh. I was really starting to regret not tossing this guy out before he had had a chance to make his proposition. I was already starting to get a headache, which never helped when you were seriously trying to think. And I was going to have lots to do come morning, such as killing the infected lingering inside the house and facing off hordes more to get chemicals for Vandal Savage. Through all this, I doubted that I would get to eat a nutritious breakfast. The infected had more than likely already destroyed the last of the small food stash in the kitchen.

"Why aren't you infected? Are you immune, too?" I asked him sleepily, eyelids already starting to feel heavy. My head was throbbing, and so was the rest of me. I wasn't doing too good, and I guess that all my blood loss was getting to me.

"Why, wondering how I came to plague you?" Vandal inquired perceptively. He didn't wait for my answer, continuing after only about half a second. "Seeing as I am immortal, my skin is tough enough to keep me from coming down with the undead sickness. I assume that if one of the creatures took a big chunk out of me, the bite would reverse this. But for obvious reasons, I'm not going to attempt this experiment."

"Oh," I answered brilliantly. Or actually, I _tried_ to answer. My lips for some reason wouldn't respond, staying closed. I felt my head starting to droop, against my will, then everything went black.

__

---

The pale-skinned zombie I had once known as my uncle stood before me, lips curled back in an angry snarl. I could see his broken and shattered teeth, yellowed and disgusting. A large vein throbbed in his forehead, its blue color very visible through the unnatural whiteness of his skin.

"_Uncle Barry," I whispered, backing away. My feet didn't really respond, so I ended up staying in the exact same position, mere inches away from him. I could smell his breath, reeking of rot and death. "Why are you doing this to me? Why did you have to stick around like this? Couldn't you just leave me here to suffer? Losing you was _more_ than enough pain for this lifetime." I felt my eyes grow wet with tears as I remembered the first time that I had seen him again after he had changed._

_Then, somehow, he actually replied, using the knowing and wise tone that Barry had used when trying to teach me some life lesson. Only the way that the infected said it was mocking, burning my ears. "You have to lose everyone that you care about to become stronger, Wally. Haven't you realized this yet? Soon you'll be as strong as that Batman character, proving him and all the others who thought you were immature wrong. Only…no one will be around to see it." He threw his head back and cackled like a reject from a movie about witches flying around on broomsticks._

_Then he was speaking again, as if hearing his voice for four sentences wasn't hard enough for me. No, I had to hear the uncle that I had lost so horribly speaking even _more_._

"_And guess what, _Wally_," he continued tauntingly, pausing to growl. The disturbing sound rumbled up from the back of his throat, causing my heart to beat even faster. Why couldn't my feet move? Why couldn't I _run_? _

"_You're going to be joining all those that you lost so tragically very soon. If you think that you've seen horror yet, if you think that you've seen terror, you're wrong. You haven't seen _anything_ yet. Wait until _they_ come for you. Then you'll find out the _true_ meaning of fear."_

_And then he lunged for my throat, causing a tidal wave of pain to spike through my entire body. I screamed, unable to defend myself. Then everything faded away to blackness, leaving me in death's strong grasp…_

_---_

"West. West, wake up."

I awoke to find Vandal Savage right in my face, staring down at me intently. He took his hands from my shoulders, apparently done shaking me enough to make my brains fall out. "I was sure that I would have to hit you again. Not that I wouldn't enjoy this, mind you." He stepped back, allowing me to stumble wearily to my feet.

I felt like crap, to put it mildly. And when I ran one hand through my hair, I found that it was stiff from dried blood. I probably looked just about as bad as I felt, if I were one to guess. I had to lean against the side of the bed for support, so I wouldn't fall back over and go into a permanent coma. That's what I wanted to do, believe me.

I wiped with the back of my hand at some of the damp blood that I could still feel oozing down my forehead. "What time is it?" I mumbled groggily.

"Exactly ten o'clock sharp. And as I saw from a crack in one of the boards over the window, perfectly sunny out. I assume that the old saying about frying an egg on the sidewalk could come true right about now."

It took me a few seconds to process his words. "What, so you're ready to go chase the infected out?"

"Infected? If you're referring to the creatures, then yes. That's exactly what I intend for us to do. Unless you want to climb out the window, find another place to stay, and finish fortifying it by nightfall. Which is in roughly…seven hours."

I didn't miss the fact that he's said 'we' were going to get rid of the zombies. Why couldn't he have just done it himself? It could help him earn his keep around here, since he was apparently insisting on staying with Jake and I.

At the thought of the terrified golden retriever, I quickly glanced towards where I had last seen him. He was still there beside the dresser, unmovingly curled into a furry ball. Unless he had gone into a coma during the night, which was highly unlikely, there were definitely still a few zombies roaming around.

Wonderful.

"We'll have to do this the hard way, then, since all the ammo is in the kitchen," I told Vandal, stretching as I tried to get rid of the stubborn aches that I was currently experiencing. At the same time, I tried to force my mind to the task at hand. I didn't relish thinking about my nightmare. It was bringing up too many painful memories that I _really_ didn't want to come to the surface.

"Thanks to your lack of common sense about that," Vandal replied cheerfully.

I shook my head, inhaling a deep and cleansing breath, then picked up the rifle. Holding it firmly in one hand, I quickly stepped towards the door. I pressed my ear against it, but heard absolutely nothing. Apparently, all the infected were roosting for the day. If we were lucky, then maybe we could catch them all by surprise.

I turned back towards Vandal, reaching for the knob with one hand. It felt cool to my touch, causing me to swallow hard. It was now or never. "Let's do this," I hissed at him, clicking the lock open. Then I slowly pulled the door forward, towards me. It creaked much too loudly in the eerie silence, and I flinched. When nothing happened, I crept out into the dark hallway. There was absolutely no light to see by, but my eyes were luckily adjusted from being inside the dark bedroom. It helped that I knew the house like the back of my hand, too.

Slowly, I headed for the staircase. Getting the spare bullets from the kitchen was step one. Then I could go about shooting all the infected that were lurking throughout the house. Hearing Vandal breathing quietly behind me, I paused at the top of the staircase. Staring down, I sucked in a quick breath to keep from losing control of my emotions.

The house was trashed. I could see furniture and fabric strewn everywhere, ripped to shreds by sharp talons. Wallpaper hung in ragged and somehow sad pieces from the walls, and carpeting was torn up from the floor. In other words, the house was completely unrecognizable to me now.

It was horrible, seeing the house where I had spent so much time as a kid destroyed like this, but there was really nothing that I could do. So I walked as silently as possible down the mangled steps, ultimately making my way towards the kitchen. It only took about three minutes, and there were no infected to encounter on the tense journey there. I was thankful for that, though it was very anticlimactic.

Reaching my destination, I looked away from the jagged slices through the cabinet doors and the refrigerator, quickly digging through one of the cluttered drawers. "Where are they, where are they?" I muttered under my breath, throwing matches and rubber bands over my shoulder.

"In your own time," Vandal stated casually, leaning against what remained of the refrigerator.

"I know they're here somewhe–" I broke off when I came across the box of shells, frantically grabbing it from the drawer and tossing it down onto the counter. I tore into it, sliding bullets into the rifle as fast as I possibly could.

When I finally was done, after what personally felt like ages, I cocked the gun and turned to Vandal. "Let's go," I said darkly, nodding towards the doorway.

"Hmmm, I was wondering if I would die of old age before you were ready. And believe me, that would be quite an accomplishment."

I ignored the passing fantasy of aiming the gun at him and filling him with a few bullets, then marched out into the living room. Time to make those things pay for invading my house, the one place I'd considered safe since the end of the world.

* * *

It turned out that there were only nine infected lurking in the dark depths of the house. I shot them all a few times, then Vandal took care of throwing the bodies out into the sunlight. The zombies promptly turned to blackened piles of ashes and withered away. It was hard to watch, but at least I wouldn't have to worry about them anymore.

Once all this was done, Jake finally emerged from the bedroom. He accompanied Vandal and I as we went out to survey the damage to the garage, since the lights in the living room refused to come on when I flipped the switch.

I was greeted with a very depressing sight. The generator was basically crushed into scrap metal now, thanks to the invading army of infected from the night before. They had certainly done a good job of wreaking the place, much to my dismay. I could only hope that I would have enough time to resecure the place by nightfall.

One stroke of luck was that my car, despite much of the paint having been ripped off and the glass shattered from the windows, still ran. When I climbed into the driver's seat and testingly turned the key, the engine roared to life. I felt a little lighter after this, since at least _one_ thing I owned hadn't been ruined during the hordes of infected zombies.

I jumped, thoughts of gratitude interrupted, when the passenger door popped open. Jake scrambled in, heading for the cramped backseat. Then, much to my disgust, Vandal also climbed in. He sat down in the seat beside mine, pulling the door closed, then strapped himself in. When I just stared at him instead of backing out of the garage, he turned to look patiently at me. "Time's wasting, West. Are we going to get the chemicals and save the world or not?"

I growled, sounding much like one of the undead creatures that wouldn't leave me alone, and slammed my own door shut. Then I jerked the car into reverse and stepped on the accelerator maybe a little harder than necessary.

If the zombies didn't kill me, then Vandal Savage's extreme case of arrogance would.

**

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I would really appreciate some reviews, everybody! :D


	9. Chapter Eight: Danger Lurks Everywhere

Chapter Eight: Danger Lurks Everywhere

As my nearly destroyed car sped recklessly through the empty streets, I found myself taking my eyes from the road much too often. They kept focusing on the sliver of sky that I could glimpse through the shattered window, which was rapidly growing cloudier and cloudier. I was definitely no weather forecaster, but it was really starting to look like rain. And that wouldn't be good, as if it became too dark, the infected could slink from wherever it was that they lurked all day and chase Vandal and I all over creation.

Not that I would have cared if Vandal got ripped to shreds by a few dozen infected. I was only worried about Jake and I right now. Besides, the guy was immortal. We didn't even know for _sure_ if a bite would convert him over to the side of the undead zombies. And I refused to admit even to myself that a small part of me didn't want him to die. I didn't want to live out the rest of my days alone, even if the alternative was spending them with Vandal Savage, super villain.

Who am I kidding? I would rather take Jake any day.

"So, are you going to tell me anything or not?" I demanded, breaking the awkward silence. Vandal hadn't said anything since we'd lurched out of the garage, the sudden burst of speed causing him to hit his forehead against the dashboard. The wound had dried up in a matter of moments, but that hadn't stopped him from giving me the silent treatment. "If we're going to be…working together, I need to be in on at least some of the details."

"To break apart your delusions, West, we're _not_ going to be working together," Vandal said bluntly, turning sideways to look at me. I didn't take my eyes from the road ahead to return the favor, so he went on without waiting for an answer. "I'm going to do all the work, and you're just the hired muscle and blood supply."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" I asked crossly, brow furrowing deeply as my teeth gritted together. "If you're expecting me to fight off the infected with my bare hands, then you're _dead_ wrong." I wasn't about to wrestle all over the floor with a bunch of bloodthirsty zombies just so Vandal could tinker with a few chemicals, chemicals that he wouldn't even tell me anything about. How could I even know if he was telling the truth?

Vandal simply stared at me, arching an eyebrow. "I meant with the gun. But if you feel it necessary to fight the creatures off with your bare hands, then feel free to do so."

I took a deep and cleansing breath. _I will not kill Vandal Savage. I will not kill Vandal Savage. I will not kill Vandal Savage._ Repeating this inside my mind almost made me feel like I was in control, and it nearly banished all thoughts of shooting the arrogant immortal a few dozen times.

"Is this the place?" he asked, breaking into my thoughts of his demise. I looked at him from the corner of my eye as I steered the car into an empty parking space, the one where I had always parked my bike in the old days. Yeah, it had been lame to ride a bicycle to work, but I couldn't just inexplicably show up by running, as it would give my coworkers reason to be suspicious. And I hadn't even had a car, so I'd had no choice about the bike being my means of transportation.

"No need to look so disgusted," I told him brusquely, putting the car in park and switching off the engine. Shoving open the car door, which unenthusiastically creaked and groaned as it swung backwards on its hinges, I got out and pulled the gun after me. Jake leapt eagerly out of the backseat, tail wagging and tongue lolling out.

"I was merely wondering if the place was better taken care of before the world ended," Vandal remarked casually. "It's a dump."

I didn't admit out loud that I agreed with him, jaw tightening as I stared at the building. Bricks were crumbling from the walls, and all the glass had shattered from the windows. Cars were parked randomly around the place, doors hanging lifelessly open, and enormous wads of grass had sprouted through cracks in the concrete and asphalt. It was _nothing_ like what it had once been, and a pang of depression shot through me. Yet another sign that the world I had used to live in was gone forever. Unless of course what Vandal was telling me was true, about this mysterious 'cure'. And I wasn't quite sure if I believed him yet.

Savage slammed the passenger door behind him, slinging a bag over his shoulder. I hadn't noticed him holding it before, and the sight of him carrying the blue and green cloth purse was almost comical. And yet I couldn't bring myself to laugh, as it had once belonged to Aunt Iris. She'd stored all her embroidery stuff inside it, and carried it around with her whenever she needed a project.

"What are you doing with that?" I demanded abruptly, blinking rapidly as I felt a strange wetness in my eyes.

"I believe that I'm _carrying_ it." He started towards the building, the bag bumping gently against his side with each even stride. "It's for the chemicals, idiot. You can't expect me to carry all of them with only my hands," he graciously clarified.

I swallowed hard, trying my best not to get all choked up, then hurried after him. Jake trotted happily alongside, nose pressed to the ground as he picked up lots of supposedly interesting scents. By the time that I'd reached the front door, Vandal had already disappeared inside, which didn't really surprise me. I paused before stepping over the threshold, cocking my gun so that I'd be ready for whatever happened next, then Jake and I walked cautiously into the blackness of the CCPD.

The incredible stench hit me first, rolling its way unbidden into my lungs. I gagged, then abruptly clamped my mouth closed to keep from throwing up. Swallowing the bile that had been rising in the back of my throat, something else caught my attention. It was absolutely silent. Quieter than even a crypt, the kind of absolute noiselessness that made you feel paranoid. Like someone or some_thing_ was watching you. Like you weren't alone. Like bugs were crawling up the back of your shirt, forked pinchers waving as they prepared to dig into the back of your neck…

"It _took_ you long enough, West," came a harsh whisper from my left, jarring me from my petrifying reverie.

I spun around at a speed that was nearly that of what I had once possessed, leveling my gun at whatever the threat was. Then I froze when I made out the distorted shape of Savage standing nonchalantly beside me. "You _do_ know I have this cocked, right? And that I'm on edge from the possibility of a zombie attack, which makes my trigger finger _nervous_?" I hissed angrily at him, embarrassed at my own carelessness. I _should_ have been used to creepy stuff like this by now. My mindless hesitation could have gotten all three of us killed, if a _real_ infected had crept up behind me.

"Of course. I just didn't think that you were stupid enough to shoot me with it." I could clearly imagine him rolling his eyes at my 'stupidity', though I couldn't actually pick out the gesture through the eerie darkness that coated the area around us.

There was a moment of silence, during which the sound of something moving somewhere close by could very clearly be heard. It sounded like something stepping down on a pile of leaves or crumpled papers, and made me swallow hard. This sound was equally loud in the unnatural silence, which was starting to make my skin crawl. Jake whined softly beside me, pressing up against my legs.

For once, Vandal didn't come up with a snarky observation. "Lead the way, West," he muttered to me in an uneasy voice. Hearing him so uncomfortable should have given me a cold satisfaction, but it didn't. As much as I hated to even think it, I knew how he felt. It was more than terrifying to imagine all the bloodthirsty and flesh-hungry creatures that were lurking out there in the dark. And all we had to defend ourselves with was a single gun. Not much to reassure me, that was for sure.

I started slowly in the direction that I remembered the main lab to be, moving even slower than trickling molasses. With each step, I put my foot down carefully to avoid stepping on any debris that could alert the infected to our unwanted presence inside their nest. I could hear Vandal breathing quietly to my left, and Jake's full-body shivers still quivered against my leg as he kept pace with me. It was more than obvious that none of us were exactly having the time of our lives.

Something loudly scraped against another object, the disturbing noise coming from deep inside the old CCPD building. I froze, heart thudding frantically against the inside of my ribs, and Jake whimpered softly. I closed my eyes to block out the gloom, trying to imagine that I was standing outside in the sunlight, completely safe as the sun's rays caressed my face.

The little fantasy didn't really take away much of my fear, as one of the infected screeched piercingly from somewhere ahead. The sound bounced and echoed through the silent structure, and my heart skipped a beat. The silence that came after the sudden outburst was even worse than before as I opened my eyes and continued on my way, even more slowly than before. With every gaping doorway that we passed, I could see in my mind's eye thousands of creatures lined up to attack us. It wasn't a pretty picture.

Finally, I came to a halt just outside an open doorway, the shape hardly even visible in the murkiness. I didn't say a word, gesturing with the butt of the rifle to show Vandal that we'd reached our destination. Then, swallowing hard, I stepped bravely through the doorway and into the lab, praying silently that none of the infected had decided to take up residence inside this room.

Trying to control my breathing, I hurriedly pulled a tiny penlight from my jeans pocket and switched it on. Shining it around the cluttered and smashed-up room, I was relieved to see that none of the infected were skulking inside the room. I grimaced at the decomposing body of a deer that was rotting in one corner, its eyes rolled back into its head so that I could see the whites of them, then motioned for Vandal.

He strode importantly into the jumbled area, headed for the locked cabinet on the far wall. I shone the light after him, angling it as best I could at the doors of the cabinet while standing guard. He yanked violently at the metal handles, muttering something unsavory under his breath when they didn't give. "Give me the flashlight," he muttered over his shoulder, hammering one fist against the glass.

My entire body went tense, muscles coiling as I prepared to fight anything that happened to appear from the blackness. What if something heard all that noise he was making? We would be dead before either of us could even blink. "What?"

"I _said_, _hand me the flashlight_," he ground out through tightly gritted teeth, turning and holding out one of his hands expectantly.

Jake whined, ears cocking up as he stared out into the corridor behind me.

"Why?" I insisted, wincing as a tormented moan reverberated cacophonously through the whole building.

"So I can smash the glass and get the chemicals that we need before all the _residents_ of this building find us," he growled under his breath, black eyes narrowing pointedly in the muted beam of the flashlight.

I cast one more nervous look over my shoulder, then reluctantly tossed the light to him. "Just keep it down," I commanded in a low voice.

It was good that I wasn't expecting an answer, because I sure didn't get one. Vandal simply caught the light then turned back to the cabinet. Leaving the beam on, he raised the flashlight and slammed it against a door. Glass shattered everywhere, sprinkling down onto the floor and all over the inside of the cabinet.

I couldn't keep from cringing at the harsh ricochet of the accusing sound, especially when Jake growled deep in his throat. I squinted down at my dog, just barely able to see his dark shape. His ears were still up, head turned towards the corridor outside. Something was out there, closer than before. Something was _coming_.

I cursed under my breath, fumbling in the sinister shadows for the door that was hanging limply from its top hinge. My fingers made contact on a sharp splinter of wood, and I felt a drop of blood swell free from the torn skin. _Wonderful_. Trying not to dwell on the fact that fresh blood always attracted the infected, I pulled against the door with all my strength. It groaned, creaking slowly but surely closed. The bottom half of the door swung wildly, until I pressed it safely up against the gaping entryway. It slid a little, but stayed in place after I gave it another quick push. There. We were safe.

Well, as safe as we could possibly be. And that really wasn't very safe at all, surrounded by creatures of the darkness that would thoughtlessly kill anyone they saw.

I thrust the bleeding finger into my mouth, sucking the blood away and hoping optimistically that none of the undead had scented me. If they had, and more than one or two of them, then we were as good as dead. And I doubted that even Vandal Savage could survive hundreds of razor-sharp claws and teeth tearing the flesh completely from his bones.

One of the infected bellowed wordlessly from deeper within the structure, sounding to my alarmed brain like a rage-filled battle cry. _Oh God,_ I thought, body going completely rigid with terror. _Oh God. OhGodohGodohGodohGod. We are _so_ dead._

"Hwwy up aweady," I whispered urgently around my finger, words coming out in a garbled mess of nonsense.

Vandal apparently got the gist of my freaked out muddle of words, as he answered in a voice that sounded more distressed than his usual lazy tone, "I'm working as fast as I can, West. And I've only got a couple more bottles to find, if this place even as _anything_ that I need…" His voice trailed off as he kept muttering inaudibly to himself, the flashlight beam jerking around crazily as he worked.

Jake growled again, the threat reverberating all throughout his furry chest. Deeming my finger as good as it was going to get, I pulled it from my mouth and knelt beside the dog. Threading my hands through the tangled hair on his back, I tried my best to calm him down. "Shhh. It's okay, boy. It's going to be okay," I murmured under my breath, adding to myself, _Or so I hope, anyway._

A wet, snuffling sound came from outside in the hallway, like a large animal who had found something interesting to smell in the bushes. My eyes widened, then my head whipped around towards Vandal. He obviously hadn't heard a thing, and was going on about whether or not he had enough of his last chemical or not. The weak flashlight beam suddenly seemed as bright as the sun outside, which was _not_ very good. In fact, if he didn't turn that thing off, then we were going to be deceased at any coming moment, as soon as the infected outside saw the light and sounded an alarm to his fellow zombies.

Acting instantaneously and without thought, I sprang in Vandal's direction. About a second or so later, I found myself lying on top of him, the bag of chemicals falling harmlessly beside us and the gun clattering to the ground. I stared down at his bearded face for a moment, completely shocked. How the heck had I gotten over here so fast? It was almost like I had my speed back, which had fully vanished a little over a year ago, as a side effect from the virus. So how had I managed to knock Savage down so quickly…?

"What are you _doing_?" he snarled up at me, features twisting into an enraged glare. His words brought me back to my senses, and to the grim reality, and I dove for the flashlight that had fallen haphazardly beside his hand. Fumbling for the off switch, I pressed my thumb against it and plunged us into unending blackness once more. Trying to hold my breath, I listened as hard as I could for sounds of danger. Vandal, seeming to sense that I hadn't just attacked him for the heck of it, was also exceedingly quiet.

Something was wheezing outside the fragile barrier, inhaling and exhaling in a way that sounded almost painful. Claws scrabbled against the concrete in the corridor, and something brushed against the door. It shuddered and nearly fell, and I closed my eyes, chest aching with lack of air.

Several moments of apprehensive silence passed, feeling to me like an eternity, then I heard the infected move on. Its feet crunched on loose papers and other debris, the noises of its retreat slowly fading into the distance. I took a breath, relaxing against the cold concrete. Why had I ever liked horror movies? It was so much worse in real life.

"I think it's gone," Vandal told me in a low voice, getting to his feet without even bothering to offer me a hand. I could clearly see him when I opened my eyes, presumably because my vision had finally adjusted. "But _next_ time, don't flatten me to the floor like a brain-damaged football player."

"I'll wait until we're out of here before I make you show your unending gratitude," I muttered sarcastically, heaving myself upright once more. I bent over and grabbed the flashlight, but didn't turn it on. Moving without the light would definitely come in handy, especially since the infected seemed to be waking up. I wasn't exactly sure why, as I'd always thought that they slept all day, until the last ray of sunshine had faded from the sky.

"Have you got everything?" I asked impatiently, as Jake came up behind me.

"I _think_ so. But I suppose I'll just have to make do with what I have, as this place doesn't have hardly _any_ of the elements I theoretically needed for the cure."

I didn't bother responding, turning towards the door. Jake on my heels, I quickly ducked through the small gap and out into the passageway. All was silent again, no sign of the infected we had heard passing. Hardly daring to hope that we might actually survive this dangerous journey, I started in the general direction of the exit. Vandal's footsteps rang out softly behind me, along with the rustling of his bag. I could only hope that none of the zombies heard.

Something groaned deafeningly behind us, causing chills to run up and down my spine. Yes, the infected were definitely waking up. And they would probably smell us and attack the moment they started towards the exit.

Which, incidentally, was the very direction that Vandal, Jake, and I were headed.

"Are we almost there?" Vandal mumbled softly from beside me.

I nodded jerkily, swallowing hard. "I think the way we came in is just two corridors ove–"

That's when the infected threw its body at me from the open doorway I was passing. I caught a glimpse of muscled, rotten flesh that shone whitely in the darkness, then my back slammed into the hard concrete, with the _thing_ on top of me. It absolutely reeked, which I somehow found time to notice in all the chaos. And saliva was dribbling from its cavernous jaws, splattering disgustingly against my forehead as it growled menacingly.

And then it attacked, claws swinging and tearing into my flesh. I pressed my lips together to hold back a scream of agony. Hand blindly outstretched, I fumbled frantically for the gun, which had fallen somewhere when I'd been knocked over. Where _was_ it?

As though answering my frenzied mental question, the gun went off, hitting the infected squarely in the chest. Blood spurted freely, spraying against my unprotected face, and the thing jerked once before going down heavily. Breathing hard, I managed to roll over, staring up at Vandal. He held the gun securely in both hands, still pointed towards the zombie.

"Thanks," I managed to gasp out, grimacing sharply at the pain now flowing through my body. I had no idea how badly the thing had injured me, but if the blood I could see wetting the concrete beneath me was any idea, than I wasn't doing too good.

"Come on, West. We've got to get out of here before the others come." He reached down and grabbed my hand, hauling me to my feet. I involuntarily cried out, stumbling and nearly falling over again. The past few days were finally catching up with me. I'd been torn up and chewed on by zombies _way_ too many times for my own good.

"Jake, where's Jake?" I croaked fearfully, head whipping around wildly as I tried to locate my dog.

"He's right over here, and he's fine. But none of us will be if you don't _shut up _and _get moving_!" Vandal snapped, grabbing at my arm. He didn't wait for my consent, throwing it around his neck and thus supporting some of my weight. "Now _go_!"

Following his lead and ignoring the waves of pain, I limped towards the exit, leaning heavily against Vandal despite myself. I heard the pattering of Jake's claws against the concrete as he quickly followed us, and felt a burst of relief. At least he was alright, if we could just get the heck out of this building and back into the protective sunlight.

A wordless howl went up in the crypt-like building behind us, ringing out for all to take notice of. As if things couldn't get any worse. Now everything that had taken up residence here was awake, and they were all probably going to come after us. Especially since I was bleeding so much.

I pawed weakly at the arm that was supporting me, trying to shove Vandal away. "You've got to leave me," I choked out bravely. "You've got to leave me and get Jake out of here, okay? Those things are going to just keep following us because of all the blood."

"Not a chance. I'm not leaving you here for those creatures to feast on, no matter how much you happen to annoy me." Such a _sweet_ thing for him to say. "Besides, without your blood, I can't even begin construct the cure." As he spoke, Savage tugged me around the final corner. "And we're nearly there. So just shut up and hold on."

"I guess I should be flattered that you need me so much." I laughed quietly, as though this were the funniest thing in the world. Some small part of me realized that I was pretty much gone, hysterical. That wasn't very good for my safety, when I didn't even care that creatures straight from a horror movie were swiftly pursuing us.

Vandal didn't answer, tugging me roughly through the final doorway, so that we could step out into the sunlight. I noticed Jake sticking close to his heels from the corner of my eye, which provided me some relief. We were going to survive, all three of us. I wasn't going to have to sacrifice myself so that Vandal and Jake could survive. And with my blood, Savage could supposedly create a cure, and we could fix all the damage to this planet. Everything would go back to normal.

And then all of that good feeling vanished as both Vandal and Jake froze. The latter whined with terror, tail tucking between his legs. I wearily lifted my eyes from the dog, focusing them out ahead, where he and Vandal were both staring. What had gone wrong _now_?

My eyes went wide, and I choked on air as I distinguished the horrifying scene stretched out before us. A row of infected stood before us, rain from the dark and stormy sky splattering down on their pale and clammy skin. The leader, whose shirt and pants were rags dangling lifelessly from his body, took one step forward and roared thunderously at us.

I then proceeded to say a word that shouldn't be recorded, thinking as bleakly as I could in my current state of pain-filled confusion: _Well, I guess we're as good as dead now._

**

* * *

**

Sorry for the lack of updates lately. Some of my reviewers have mysteriously vanished into thin air, which isn't really giving me any inspiration to update my fics. I'm also working on a novel, which is taking up a lot of my time. But anyway, I hope that all of you enjoyed the new chapter. :) Happy Halloween, and don't forget to review!


	10. Chapter Nine: Returning to the Beginning

**A/N: **Wow, I feel really horrible about taking so long to update this fic, so I made this chapter extra long. ^_^; But I do have an excuse this time, though (surprise, surprise). My flash drive was corrupted, and I apparently lost all my notes on this story. O_O Luckily, I think I remember where I wanted to go with this story, plus I have a few new ideas. So anyway, read on! :D

* * *

Chapter Nine: Returning to the Beginning

Vandal cursed loudly, but my mind wasn't really on him at the moment. I could only stare out into the pouring rain, feeling numb as I saw the car parked several hundred feet behind the row of infected. Their leader bellowed again, the wordless battle cry echoing eerily throughout the empty city. Somewhere out there among the battered buildings, the call was answered with a ghostly wail.

Jake whined from beside me, sounding absolutely terrified. And I didn't really blame him.

Well, so this was it. After all this time, after managing to evade the hordes of hungry infected for a whole year, after losing my friends and gaining Jake, I was going to die. I wasn't going to be able to survive, to find out if any other members of the League had, though it was painfully doubtful.

I felt like falling over and letting the infected devour my flesh, hopefully making my death fairly swift. But for some reason, I was still standing. This was actually kind of surprising to me, though at least the unimaginable pain radiating through my body was starting to fade. I wasn't sure whether this was good or not, but I couldn't really bring myself to care.

Vandal was muttering something that I couldn't exactly make out through the dull ringing in my ears. Then he shook me roughly, and everything unexpectedly snapped back into focus.

The rain pounded again my face, and my clothes were already soaking wet, clinging to my body like a second skin. My arm, aching much like the rest of me was, was still thrown around the back of Vandal's neck. Thunder rumbled on the distant horizon, echoed by the leader of the group of infected. Jake whined, fur brushing against my leg through my dripping jeans. And the pack of zombies stayed completely still some distance before us, panting loudly through their open mouths while their rotted chests heaved up and down.

Suddenly recalling that Vandal had been trying to say something, I groggily shook myself. "What?" I asked stupidly, trying not to notice that several of the infected looked interested at the sound of my low voice.

"Get ready to run, West," he hissed into my ear. It took me a second to process his words, and by the time I had figured out that he was planning something, he had raised the gun and fired off three shots into the crowd of infected. Several of them scattered, though only two fell, injured, to the concrete.

My arm slid off his neck during his violent motion, and I stumbled and nearly fell to the ground. I managed to catch my balance just in time, and was momentarily pleased with myself. But then the leader of the infected roared, the sound sending cold terror through my very soul. As I blinked groggily at the pale-skinned creatures, they started to move, surging forward like some bizarre wave of undead monsters. Which was basically what they were.

"Come on, West, _move_!" Vandal shouted, flinging my arm back around his neck and starting to run. I let myself be dragged along beside him, actually quite surprised that my legs still seemed to be in working order.

We dodged sharply to the left before the infected could guess where we were headed, which was apparently towards the car. I didn't really know just _why_ we were headed for the car, since it wouldn't exactly be a very good shelter with all the glass shattered from the windows. But Vandal seemed to know what he was doing, which was good, since _I_ sure didn't.

Squinting blearily over my shoulder into the driving rain, I saw the scattered creatures turn and head towards us again. Could we _never_ get a break? I was getting seriously tired of all this running; I just wanted to lie down and rest for a little while, to make the pain go away with blissful unconsciousness. But Vandal didn't seem caught up on my current plans, because he was still hauling me along behind him, occasionally firing off a shot or using the gun to club an infected that got too close over the skull.

I was evidentially pretty out of it, because I didn't realize we were already at the car until Vandal was stuffing me unceremoniously through the driver's side door, then hurriedly climbing in behind me. I groaned in pain as he shoved me over into the passenger seat, lacking the strength to pull the lower half of my body up from where it was crammed into the floorboard. Then the engine was revving up, and the car jerked violently into motion, speeding backwards.

"Jake," I mumbled woozily through deadened lips, finding it very difficult to speak. "Where's Jake?"

"He's in the back, and he's _fine_," Vandal answered tightly, sounding sort of tense. I decided to open my eyes, which was a great effort in itself, and the first thing I saw was Savage, hunched over the steering wheel and gripping it so tightly that his knuckles were white with strain.

Then I shouted with surprise as an infected launched itself onto the front of the car. It landed with a thud on the hood and immediately dug its clawed fingers into the metal. I pulled myself into a straighter position, realizing in the process that we were now driving forward at an incredible speed, though of course nothing that I had previously been used to in my Justice League days. The only reason that I was able to discern this little piece of information was because of the rain that pelted my face, stinging the cuts that I was sure were present there.

Vandal swore, wrenching the wheel sharply to one side. I was flung against the passenger side door, and nearly found myself flying out the broken window. I managed to grab onto the seat and hold myself in as the infected, which hadn't been quite so lucky, flew off the hood and disappeared behind us.

I tried to speak, but my voice came out as a croak instead. Clearing my throat imperceptibly, I managed, "Where…are we…going?"

"Well, we sure as hell can't go back to your house," Vandal pointed out, "seeing as _they're_ all intent on following us as far as they possibly can." He glanced in the rearview mirror, then returned his gaze to the road ahead. "So unless you want every infected in the city to suddenly know where you live, then we're going to have to go out of town for a bit."

This made sense to me, though I couldn't find the words to agree. "But…where are we…?"

"Don't worry about that right now." He looked over at me, then quickly back again, just in time to swerve out of the way of a parked car. "You need to concentrate on staying awake. I'm no expert of course, since I've never really found the time to study medical sciences, but you aren't looking too well right now, West. You need to rest, but it would more than likely be best not to lose consciousness."

I tried to say something, to tell him that I was too tired to stay awake, and to quit bossing me around. I also tried to tell him thanks for saving my life, even though he'd cut it a little close. But unfortunately, nothing like that came out of my mouth.

Then, directly ignoring his instructions, I passed out.

* * *

When I came to again, it was to the sound of my stomach growling loudly. I said straight up in my seat, gasping out with dazed confusion, "Who, what, where?"

Vandal smirked from where he was grimly steering the car. "So you've finally decided to grace the world with your presence again, I see."

I grimaced silently as the stiffness in my joints made itself known, and the rest of my body began aching. Glancing down, I saw that my seat, not only wet from rain that had apparently stopped since I'd been unconscious, but soaked from my own blood as well. The entire seat was coated in crimson, and my stomach lurched as I saw the evidence of my wounds.

"Where are we?" I asked thickly, shuddering and glancing away from the sticky redness, which also gruesomely coated my clothing.

Vandal didn't answer, mouth twisting into a thin line. I then heard something in the silence outside the speeding car that made my hair stand on end: an infected, howling hungrily for fresh flesh. And then we had passed the sound, literally leaving it in our dust. Another howl came, then another. It was like a song from the depths of hell itself, echoing all around us as we drove. I didn't know how Vandal had been able to stand it, while I'd had the peacefulness of unconsciousness.

I glanced into the backseat, and saw a drenched Jake curled up in the cramped floorboard. At first, he looked more dead than alive. Thankfully, I figured out in just a few more seconds that it was the noises scaring him, before freaking out and thinking that he really _was_ dead.

"Well?" I asked, clearing my throat when my voice cracked pathetically.

"Not particularly, but your concern is touching," was his cynical reply. He still didn't take his eyes from the road winding ahead into the blackness.

I felt like throttling him, except for the fact that I was still weak from being attacked by the infected, and because he was currently driving the car. And I didn't want to think about what would happen if the car stopped. Let's just say that the hungry creatures prowling the night wouldn't need much prompting to attend an impromptu feast.

"The look of rage on your face is very unbecoming," he noted with a smirk. "And in answer to your previous, more sensible, question, we're going to the only place I can think of that's safe. The only place that has the potential to possess a lab good enough to assist my efforts of creating the cure. And before you ask," he added, intercepting me as my mouth opened, "you'll find out when we get there."

I closed my mouth again and settled into a sullen silence. I wasn't really liking the way this so-called _partnership_ was progressing. He was basically just dragging Jake and I around so he could take a siphon off a few bottles of my blood at a later date, then use it to save the world. Or so he said. I couldn't help a nagging feeling that he was scamming me, thanks to the days when I had gone up against him in red spandex. It was a hard feeling to get past.

And speaking of spandex…I would have thought that I'd be in a whole lot more pain after being mauled by an infected. And yet, for some weird reason, the pain was reduced to dull throbbing, instead of mind-bending agony. Not that I was complaining, of course. I looked down once again at my spilt blood, then averted my eyes. Even after practically living in a zombie horror movie for a year, blood still got to me. Especially my own.

I glanced out my shattered window, squinting into the powerful wind that assaulted my face as we sped down the highway. As we blurred past, I caught a brief glimpse of something with pasty skin and gleaming eyes, its mouth twisted to howl up at the dark sky.

I could also make out towering buildings. We were apparently traveling through a city now, of course as abandoned by living people as the rest of the planet was. I couldn't recognize where exactly we were, though, as it was much too dark. And after a while, all the abandoned buildings in the cavernously empty cities started to look the same.

And yet I could still fuzzily remember a time when the Earth had been full of life, of _people_. I could still remember how all this had started. Unbidden, I felt my mind drift back to the day I had first learned of how the so-called cure for cancer was actually a dangerous disease.

_I was staring blankly at the TV screen, unable to comprehend what I was seeing. The news anchor was talking in a voice that was just a tone above serenity, eyes wide as she read quickly from the teleprompter._

"_And I repeat, the alleged cure for cancer, developed just last month by Doctor Gena Adams, is failing. All of those who submitted themselves for treatment, supposedly emerging from the building completely cured, are now exhibiting strange symptoms. Doctors have never seen anything like this in the history of mankind. _

"_It's…it's some sort of virus. Doctor Brett Wilder, who didn't wish to appear on recorded footage, reports that something inside the cancer vaccine, something that's infecting everyone who has ingested it. It's apparently _changing_ their very DNA, unraveling it, mutating it. No one knows yet what the full extent of the cellular damage will be."_

_The woman's face was now even paler as she said the next words. "And Wilder also reports that there is a very high possibility that the mutagen could become airborne, that it could infect everyone on this planet." She paused, obviously suppressing some strong emotion as she swallowed hard. _

"_And yet the President requests that everyone remain calm," she continued in a shaking voice. "A quote from him is as follows: 'My fellow Americans, we must stand together in this crisis and prove that we are better than it. We must not fall weeping to the ground at this alleged threat. So far, we know hardly anything of the supposed mutagen. But when more information comes in, the public _will_ be informed.'"_

_The news anchor swallowed again. "We'll keep you well-informed with this developing story. And now to Mike, with the weekly weather forecast."_

_I grabbed the remote and muted the TV, expression settling into a very Bat-ish frown. Everyone had been so excited when the cure for cancer had come out, practically bouncing off the walls as millions of people around the globe had lined up, then walked off with no trace of the cancer remaining in their bodies. _

_But if that was true, if there was an airborne virus that had the potential to mutate everyone on the planet…what was going to happen to all of us?_

_My apartment door suddenly opened, and I jumped to my feet with a burst of speed, startled. Linda laughed tiredly when she saw the look on my face, which I'm sure was comical, then placed the five steaming boxes of pizza on my kitchen counter. "Hey, Wally. I brought over some pizza. Thought you might be hungry."_

"_Always," I said gratefully, efficiently covering up my worry over the troubling newscast. "Thanks, Lin." I blurred over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She didn't even look surprised; she was starting to get used to my powers._

"_So, how was work today?" I asked her, hurrying over to the cabinet and digging for a pair of plates that were actually clean. Actually finding what I was looking for, I handed a plate to Linda and tore open a box. With a flick of my wrist, eight pieces of hot pizza appeared on my plate._

"_Well, everyone's in a big to-do about that so-called virus," Linda told me, brow furrowing prettily. "There's going to be a press conference tomorrow afternoon with the President, and Mr. Lenards is planning for me and Beth to cover the story."_

_I grinned proudly, then looked down at my plate of pizza. "See, that's my girl! Always one step ahead of the other channels, and always right in the middle of–"_

_Linda's plate shattered as it slipped from her hand and fell to the kitchen tile. Immediately abandoning my pizza, I sped around the counter to her. I felt my eyes grow wide with alarm with I saw the faint sheen of sweet coating her forehead, and the odd gray tint to her skin. "Linda? Linda, what's wrong?" I asked her frantically._

"_I'm _fine_, Wally," she said irritably, raising a shaking hand to smooth hair back from face. "Just a little weak today, that's all."_

_Something lurched inside me, and then I somehow knew._

I was jarred back into reality as the car lurched unsteadily, seeming almost to falter in its extreme speed. And if that wasn't enough to get me worried, Vandal's creative swearing definitely snapped me back to attention.

"What? What is it?" I asked, blinking several time as I tried to bring my mind back into reality. I glanced over at the speedometer, and felt my eyes widen as I realized that the car was suddenly losing considerable speed. "Um…it's not supposed to do that, is it?"

"We're out of gas," he ground out, hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles stood out whitely, like they were glowing. In the backseat, I heard Jake's claws scrabbling on the seat as he sat up, sensing the fact that we were starting to slow down.

I blinked, feeling like Supes had just punched me in the gut. Not that it was possible of course, since he was dead. "Can't you _do_ something?" I asked frantically. Even though I couldn't actually see them, I imagined the infected scattered throughout the city pricking their ears up as we slowed, then loping towards our location.

"I can't _fly_, West. And since your powers supposedly gave out on you, then we're just going to have to do this the old-fashioned way." He jerked the wheel sharply to one side, and a parked silver minivan loomed up in front of us. He didn't cut back on the speed, and I flinched as I saw the other vehicle looming up in the glassless-windshield.

And then, with a tremendous screeching of brakes, he stopped the car, threw it into park, and was gone. I stared, mouth slightly agape, at the seat where he had once been sitting, and at the empty floorboard where the gun and bag of chemicals had been sitting, then heard the howling.

Stomach lurching nauseatingly, I fumbled for the door handle and finally managed to kick it open. Exploding out onto the pavement and nearly falling, I steadied myself on the door, glass shards slicing into my palm. "Jake, come _on_!" I shouted urgently, ignoring the pain and fresh blood that welled freely from the skin. But the dog was apparently too afraid, for he didn't move from the backseat.

"West! West_, hurry up_!" Vandal was yelling in my direction. He was standing by the open door of the minivan, its engine having already rumbled to life.

Sending a frantic gaze over my shoulder, I leaned as far as I could into the car and grabbed my dog by the scruff of his neck. I then dragged him out the door with painful slowness, ignoring his torturous whines of protest.

"West!" The gun went off, bullet imbedding itself in the open car door beside me.

I spun around, letting Jake go, an angry retort already forming on my lips. If he was planning to kill me, why hadn't he already gotten it over with when we'd first met, instead of pretending he actually _needed_ me?

And then I saw the infected, saliva dribbling from its toothy maw as it swiped the air with its claws. I gasped, then dodged to the side as it launched itself at me. It slammed into the side of the battered car, denting it even more than it already was. But I didn't stick around to mourn about the car I had driven for so long. Instead, I took off for the van a short distance away, a yelping Jake hanging right on my heels. As I neared the passenger side of the van, Savage fired again, then slammed his door.

I wrenched my own door open, shoving Jake into the back, then leapt into the seat. Before the door was even properly closed, we were gone again. The hungry infected roared with anger behind us, beating its fists senselessly against the car we had just abandoned.

"That is the _slowest_ damn getaway I have _ever_ seen," Vandal growled at me, foot pressing the accelerator into the floor.

I didn't answer, heart pounding urgently and adrenaline rushing through my body. I didn't think I would ever be able to sleep again, even though tiredness was once again easing over my wounded body.

But I was starting to get slightly annoyed. Once again, I owed Vandal my life. I was starting to get really sloppy, especially for an ex superhero.

* * *

I must have eventually managed to doze off again, because I jolted awake to the sound of Vandal saying my name. "It's about _time_, West," he said irritably. "I've only said your name around a hundred times. Now, I know you're lethally injured and all that, but can you rouse yourself enough to get to safety?"

Ignoring his comment, I sat up and rubbed my eyes with a shaking hand. "Where are we?" I asked groggily, squinting out the front window shield of the minivan into the darkness. I noticed that we were still careening forward, through another city instead of on the open road. And we seemed to be starting to slow down.

"Get ready," he ordered me, instead of answering. "When I stop, get out of the van and run to the building. The first floor will undoubtedly be full of creatures, but the second floor and above won't be. You should know your way around, so head for the elevator. It's secured against everyone except those whose DNA is recorded in the computer files."

"What–" I began with unsuppressed confusion, ignoring my throbbing head.

"Just trust me," he interrupted sharply. "I'll take the gun and shoot anything that gets too close. You take the chemicals and your dog and get inside."

I nodded, frowning as I tried to work out where we could possibly be headed. The city stretched out in front of the van's headlights looked vaguely familiar, but I still couldn't quite place where we were.

Swallowing hard as I caught a glimpse of motion off to one side of the street as we barreled past, I leaned slowly over and grabbed Aunt Iris's old embroidery bag, grimacing as pain shot through me. I hadn't bothered looking in the mirror to see how I looked, but I had to assume that I wasn't my usual handsome self. That infected back at the CCPD had really done a number on me, before Vandal had killed it.

"We're here," Vandal said abruptly, spinning the wheel and sending the car flying sideways into a sudden stop. I hadn't been expecting us to reach our destination quite so quickly, and was flung forward towards the window. I managed to halt myself by grabbing at the sides of my seat. Jake wasn't so lucky; I heard him yelp and roll into the door behind me.

"Go, West, _go_!" And then Vandal was out of the van, and I heard the gun go off twice. I hurriedly gripped the bag in one hand and kicked the door open. Pain flared through my leg, then I heaved myself out. Jake was right behind me, claws scrabbling on the blood-soaked leather seat. I don't know why I bothered closing the door behind me, but I did.

Then I froze and gaped with shock when I finally realized exactly where we were.

The gun fired again and Vandal shouted something unintelligible. This spurred me back into motion, and I set off at a fast limp for the building towering over me. Infected were snarling rabidly behind me, but I tried to ignore the terrifying sounds, focusing only on getting to safety.

Something sharp snapped together around my ankle, and I cried out in pain. I was beat up enough as it was; I didn't really want losing a leg to join the rest of my problems. I swung my other leg at the head of the infected that was gnawing my flesh, and momentarily stunned it. Shaking it off me, I continued on, trying to move as quickly as I possibly could, despite the fresh blood I could feel leaking out behind me.

Vandal unexpectedly caught up, slowing to a fast jog as he reached my side. "What are you _waiting_ for, West?" he snapped with exasperation, sounding slightly out of breath as he turned around and fired three more times.

When I didn't answer him, saving what little air I had to keep going, he slung my unprotesting arm around his neck and started dragging me along so fast that I stumbled and felt my freshly-injured leg dragging limply along the ground. I kept my lips locked together against a cry of pain as we reached the gaping entrance, inhaling deep breaths through my nose.

Vandal paused to shoot once over his shoulder, then dragged me towards where I knew the elevator was located. I happened to know that it was only just inside the building, though my mind wasn't really on the situation at hand. Even as bloodcurdling cries of the undead echoed all around me, my eyes unfocused, making everything seem blurry and strange.

In my mind's eye, nightmarish scenes flashed past. My friends screamed, creatures roared and hungrily tore away their flesh. Blood spilled against the floor, and various-colored lights flashed brilliantly. And then I was running, like a coward, and leaving the battle behind to save myself. That was the worst mistake of my life, the thing that I regretted the most…

I jolted back into awareness as Vandal grabbed my hand and pressed it against an identification pad beside the elevator, then its doors clanged smoothly apart. Jake fairly threw himself inside, cowering in the corner, and Vandal dragged both of us after him. Then, as I dizzily watched what seemed like thousands of infected racing right at us, the doors closed again, cutting of several screams of frustration and rage.

Vandal pulled away from me and panted for air, this the only sound in the elevator, which was apparently sound-proofed. I leaned wearily against the mirrored wall, studying the achingly familiar elevator with dull interest. I didn't really have enough strength to dwell on the last time I had seen this building, as the pain throbbing throughout my entire body took up most of my thoughts.

"No need to thank me for saving your skin _again_," Vandal emphasized, and I saw him glancing over at me with that something that could have almost been concern from the corner of my eye.

I didn't answer, my gaze instead focusing on the reflective wall just across from me. I looked like death warmed over, like I was actually one of the infected. Every bit of exposed skin was raw and oozing, and my clothes were torn and hanging limply from my body. Fresh blood leaked from my ankle, already forming a small puddle, and dried blood crusted my face. I almost couldn't recognize myself, because even my eyes looked lifeless, lacking their usual sparkle. "I look like crap," I announced in a dull voice, trying to lighten the situation a little. But my feeble attempt at a joke didn't really do much, because it was the truth.

"I would say that I'm not going to argue with that assumption, but it would be _terribly_ rude of me," Vandal remarked, shifting the gun to his left hand so he could wipe away the fresh blood bubbling from a cut on his forehead.

A small smile twisted my lips, the expression looking utterly alien on my reflected face. I loathed even to think it, but my feelings from earlier seemed to be…fading. Even though he had been a psychotic super villain that I had routinely done battle with back in the day, I could already feel myself becoming closer to Vandal Savage. I could only assume that the end of the world brought people closer together, even if they were enemies.

But I couldn't help wondering if I'd still feel the same if the Joker had been the one other survivor. And somehow, I highly doubted it.

The elevator made a cheerful dinging sound, indicating that we'd _finally_ reached our destination. The doors slid apart, and I pushed myself tiredly away from the wall, experiencing a moment of lightheadedness before I could see straight again. Then I stepped out into the second floor control room of the Metro Tower, feeling impulsive tears wet my eyes.

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Thanks for reading, and please review if you get the time. :)


	11. Chapter Ten: Accident

Chapter Ten: Accident

Vandal immediately headed over to the advanced computer system and began bringing up the system's files. I watched him for a few seconds, my body feeling strangely heavy, then glanced warily around the large open area. It was very familiar to me, but also not. The heavy layers of dust that coated surfaces that had once gleamed was beyond weird to see.

Jake whined, scurrying over to a row of metal chairs against the wall. He became nothing but a small ball of tangled red fur beneath them.

Clearing my throat, I limped over to join Vandal at the computer. He had taken a seat in the leather chair, and was typing away. He seemed to be bringing up the security cameras for the first floor, presumably to check on the hordes of infected roaming below.

"You act like you've been here before," I said thickly, trying my best to pretend I wasn't feeling very emotionally drained at the moment. But the plus side was, I wasn't feeling as bad physically as I had before. Despite how I'd looked in the elevator, I felt a bit better. Or maybe it was just my imagination.

He didn't look up when he spoke to me. "I _have_, West. Don't you remember me telling you how I found you?" The question was apparently rhetorical, as he went right on, "I came here and found the home addresses of the majority of you League members. It was a long shot, but at least I managed to find _you_." His tone indicated that he would have preferred to be alone, but I wasn't buying the act.

"But how did _you_ get in? The elevators can only be activated with living DNA of someone listed in the files of the Metro Tower," I said with confusion, frowning.

"I'm certainly listed in the Metro Tower files. And the electrical shock I received after stepping off the elevator wasn't the most pleasant of welcomings I've ever obtained." He stopped talking as a grainy view of the elevator doors on the first floor filled the screen. Several infected were clawing viciously at the metal, claws leaving deep gashes as they tried to fight their way in. Their eyes shone red, and their pasty chests were heaving with the effort of trying to get to us, their would-be prey.

"Are you sure those doors are going to hold up?" I asked him nervously, imagining what would happen if they managed to get up here. We'd be dead meat, very literally.

"I'm going to reroute some of the Tower's main power to the doors. A few good shocks should detour those creatures," Vandal muttered, minimizing the security footage and opening a new file.

As I had absolutely no idea what he was doing, I turned and wandered across the main room. I was trying very hard not to think about what had happened the last time I'd been here, instead focusing on the dust-stained floor beneath my feet, and the growling hunger I was currently experiencing. I could only hope that there was still some kind of food around here somewhere, or the three of us were going to slowly starve to death. Getting out of here was going to be hard, thanks to the infected milling around downstairs, which made me wish we'd considered this plan a little better before getting ourselves stuck like this.

Not that I'd been thinking at all earlier, with the shape I was in. Or that was my excuse, anyway.

After a bit of walking, leaving the sound of Vandal's frantic typing far behind me, I found myself at the open staircase at the far end of the second floor. I felt a brief surge of panic, then remembered that the stairs only started on the second floor and went up. Which made sense, because the infected would have been up here long ago if there was a way.

I started up the stairs, footsteps ringing out metallically. There were no windows, for which I was glad. The last thing I wanted to see was the darkness outside, filled with howling monsters. I was trying my best to pretend like everything was perfectly normal, like I was back to a year earlier, trudging upstairs for some boring meeting Bats had scheduled.

When I finally reached the top floor, my legs were aching. I sat down in a metal chair to rest for a few minutes, then began my explorations. The lights flickered constantly this far up, so I was practically searching in darkness. Though what I was looking for, I had no idea.

I wandered into one of the conference rooms, exclusively used by the Founders. It was unchanged, except for the piles of ratty blankets and many food wrappers scattered through one corner of the room. As I stared at the crumpled wrappers, my heart began to pound. I slowly surveyed the rest of the room, and my eyes landed on a dilapidated refrigerator.

More out of curiosity than anything, I walked over and looked inside. Quite a few cans of soup lined the inside of the fridge, along with several dehydrated boxes of macaroni and cheese. I also found a couple of bottles of water when all the food had been pushed aside. My stomach growled at the thought of actually eating until I wasn't hungry, but I quickly restrained myself and slammed the door. The food would have to be carefully rationed between Vandal, Jake, and I. It was the only way to make sure we wouldn't starve while holed up inside the Tower.

I turned away from the refrigerator, trying to keep my mind from going back to the food that was stacked so neatly inside it, ready to be eaten. My eyes scanned the rest of the room, and I couldn't help wondering if the many worn blankets were signs that some had survived that attack a year earlier, and stayed here for a while.

But I quickly pushed the thought from my mind, not wanting to get my hopes up for nothing. There was no proof that anyone had survived that final battle, and no one had tried to contact me over the past year. It wasn't possible for anyone to have survived.

I turned to leave, but stopped as my shoe crunched on a yellowed scrap of paper. Frowning, I idly bent to pick it up. As I started to read, I felt stranger and stranger with each word. It was like someone had punched me in the gut, and I sagged back against a wall placed conveniently behind me.

_If anyone's reading this, some of us are still alive. The food is starting to run low, and there's not enough for all of us, so we're leaving the city. We've heard of a safe place in the country, where none of the infected roam. That's where we're headed. If you find this message, come find us. We aren't the only ones. _Drawn at the bottom was a winding map, which I turned in several different directions, trying to figure it out.

The handwriting was slightly familiar, but it took me several seconds to realize where I'd seen it before. It was _Shayera's_ writing.

My legs were suddenly too weak to hold me up. I dropped to the floor with a muted thud, tightly clutching the paper with both hands. Shayera had survived the attack. And from the sound of things, so had some of the others. There was no way of telling when the note had been written, but there was still a distinct possibility that some of the Leaguers were _still alive_.

My eyes were starting to feel wet, so I hurriedly blinked to clear any tears before they could fall.

All this time, I'd thought I was alone. Then I'd found Jake. And Vandal had, miraculously, found me. Was it really such a stretch to imagine that Shayera could have managed to survive, made it to this so-called 'safe place'? Maybe she was out there waiting for me _right now_.

Feeling as though there were wings in my feet, I raced down the many flights of stairs, back to where I'd left Vandal. My throbbing body was forgotten as I took the metal steps two at a time, racing to the second floor. It only took around two or three minutes for me to reach my destination, then I skidded into the room.

"Vandal!" I gasped breathlessly. Weirdly enough, my breathlessness was more from excitement than the physical exertion. "Look at this! It's a note – a note from Shayera! It says she and some of the others are still alive, and they're headed for some kind of safe spot out in the country!" I waved the note through the air around me, practically in his face.

Vandal barely glanced at me, doing something scientific with the computer systems. "What are the chances of her managing to survive for over a week after writing that note and venturing out, West? With thousands of hungry creatures stalking her. Do you _really_ think she's still alive?"

My enthusiasm lessened considerably, excitement slowly fading. "So you think she's dead?" I asked dully.

"Of course I do. She had to be insane to leave this place and go out there with the creatures. And insane people can't survive in this new world, even if they _do_ have wings."

Excitement completely deflated, I dropped the note and walked from the room.

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Several days passed, each even more boring than the last.

All I did was pace around the interior of the Metro Tower and try my best not to think about the note I'd found. Vandal, on the other hand, tried to be useful with his time, rigging up some kind of signal and broadcasting our location on several radio frequencies. I thought it was a useless endeavor, but didn't bother telling him that. He also worked on the alleged 'cure', occasionally taking samples of my blood and being all mad scientist in one of the labs.

Finally, I couldn't take the monotony any longer. I made sure to eat every bit of my rations that morning, to get as much stength as possible, then waited for a few hours before approaching Vandal in the lab.

"What do you want, West?" he asked, without looking up from a microscope. His back was turned towards me, and I uneasily wondered if he had eyes in the back of his head.

"Jake and I are going out today. It's really sunny out," I told him, not bothering to ask for permission.

Vandal tore off the large goggles he wore and turned to look at me, bearded face wearing a dark scowl. "That's insanity! Are you trying to get yourself killed?" he demanded loudly.

"No," I snapped back, irritated that he thought I was stupid enough to get myself killed after so much time surviving on my own. "I'm just getting really tired of being trapped in this place. I used to go out every day back in Central."

"And how you survived as long as you did, I'll never know," he fired back.

I was finding it harder and harder to keep my temper in check, and clenched both hands into fists. "Savage, you're not my keeper. Just because you found me back at my house doesn't mean that you can control my every move now. Jake and I are leaving today, and there's nothing you can do about it." After the words came out, I felt a little like a rebellious teenager having a shouting match with my parents. But I didn't back down.

Vandal stiffened, and for a minute I thought he was going to throttle me. But instead, he just turned away again. "Fine," he muttered darkly, so quietly that I could barely hear him. "When you're both killed, there'll be more food for me."

I focused on keeping my lips pressed tightly together, and practically ran from the room, all the way to the elevator. I was pleasantly surprised to find that running was easier than it had been, and briefly wondered if I was starting to get my speed back.

I pressed the elevator button, and the doors slid open. Jake and I stepped inside, then the elevator started descending to the ground floor.

I held my breath almost the entire ride, knowing what would happen when we reached our destination. It might have been safe outside, but the inside of the Tower was bound to be crawling with sleeping infected. We were going to have to run, and run fast.

The elevator doors creaked open, and I quickly slipped out, Jake sticking close to my heels. The doors almost immediately closed behind me, leaving me on my own in the large room.

Piles of infected littered the place. They were curled up in small nests, like rats, pasty chests rapidly rising and falling as they slept. Biting down hard on my lower lip, I started quickly forward, trying to make as little noise as possible. The last thing I wanted was to wake all these guys up. I might have been immune to their virus, but Jake definitely wasn't. And I could still die.

We had almost reached the doors, the safe patch of sunlight falling across the shabby carpet in sight, when I heard a low growl from just behind me. I slowly turned, afraid at what I might see.

An infected was staring right at us, eyes wide open. Its lips were pulled back into a dangerous snarl, revealing glistening teeth. And as it growled again, the eyes of those all around it also flashed open.

I swore, then raced for the exit. The infected were roaring behind me, all waking at the sound of my voice, and all starving for fresh meat. I ran harder than I ever had in my life, eyes staring straight ahead at the patch of sunlight. It probably only took me a few seconds to get to the doors, but it felt like an eternity.

I charged through the open doors and outside into the brilliant sunlight. Jake was right behind me, tail tucked between his legs. I stopped on the curb outside and turned to look back in. The many infected lingered just out of the sun's reach, hissing vengefully. One of them tried to reach for me, but shrieked and drew its hand back in when the sunlight burned its flesh.

Sighing with relief, I turned away and walked into the parking lot. I'd think about how the heck I was supposed to get back inside again at a later date.

The warm rays of sunlight felt good against my skin, as did the faint breeze blowing through Metropolis. The streets were as cavernously empty as always, but there was no sign of any infected. And that was always a good sign in my book.

Jake and I strolled through the empty streets, carefully avoiding parked cars and the tallest patches of weeds. Even though we were perfectly safe from the unnatural predators, there were still plenty of hungry wild animals lurking. And I didn't want to run into any of them, especially since I had somehow managed to forget to bring the gun. I wasn't the brightest I'd ever been today, that was for certain.

We wandered along for what was about half an hour, according to my watch. Then everything changed, the peaceful atmosphere totally vanishing, as I noticed something on the ground just ahead.

I quickly grabbed the scruff of Jake's neck, holding him back. He growled, the sound rattling from deep in his hairy chest, as he also noticed the object up ahead.

"Stay," I said in a low voice, hoping he could at least sort of understand me. Then I ventured cautiously towards the unidentified thing on the ground just ahead, squinting into the distance as I tried to figure out what it was.

As I got closer, I could see that the object appeared to be an infected. It was already decomposing, sun eating away its unprotected flesh. I stopped a few feet away and studied it without getting any closer.

There were no obvious wounds that I could see, no signs that it could have gotten in a fight with another one of its kind. And the way it was just lying there, like a corpse prepared for burial, was kind of suspicious in itself. These things didn't commit suicide, did they?

Then a thought occurred to me, once that made excitement start beating through me. What if there was a _new_ virus starting to go around, one that effected only those already infected? Maybe it was slowly taking them all out. Maybe the whole planet could be rid of them in a few months, leaving only those immune to the first virus!

Without thinking, I took several more steps forward, eager to examine the corpse for any clues to prove my theory. I even ignored Jake's warning bark from behind me, and didn't see it coming until it was too late.

There was a thunderous crash, and something slapped against my ankle, twining tightly around my leg. I was pulled up into the air before I could even react, head slamming against the concrete with a dull thud.

And then I knew no more.

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Oh, reviews. How I love reading them… :P


	12. Chapter Eleven: Familiar Faces

**A/N:** To Kyer, Kirsten Erin, warrior of worlds, and BlueEyes444: thanks for reviewing on the last chapter! You guys are the greatest! *high-fives*

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Chapter Eleven: Familiar Faces

_Beep beep beep beep. Beep beep beep beep. Beep beep beep beep._

I slowly drifted back into awareness, groaning. My head was literally throbbing with pain, and my eyes didn't seem to want to open. I felt dizzy and strange, and the annoying beeping that assaulted my ears wasn't really helping anything…

I gasped out loud, my whole body jerking in alarm. My eyes flew open. It had taken me several groggy moments, but I now knew what the beeping sound was. My programmed watch alarm, which went off at twenty-five minutes after five every day. It was a warning, telling me to get my butt inside before the infected started prowling through the darkness.

My blurry vision finally cleared, and I saw with horror that I was hanging upside-down. Jake was barking from the ground below, ears back and tail tucked between his legs, and a puddle of crimson blood stained the concrete. As I stared, a drop of red fell from my head to join the rest of the blood.

And if that wasn't enough, the sun was steadily sinking beneath the horizon. It was almost nightfall, with just a few precious traces of sunlight left to protect Jake and I from the infected.

I swore, using the most creative phrase I could think of, then twisted to look straight up. The sudden movement made my head spin, but I forced myself to concentrate. A thick piece of green rope seemed to have been looped around my ankle, securing me to a metal post. If I gazed off into the distance a ways, I could see that the rope was attached to a car, which had previously been suspended up on something. Now it was on the ground, looking cracked and broken.

From what I could gather, the decomposing infected on the ground had been a trap. And I had walked right into it.

I turned around to face the ground again, frowning as I tried to make myself concentrate. Getting down from the post was the most logical option, I thought. The _next_ most logical option would be to get the hell inside before the infected devoured me. Sounded like a good enough plan. Now I just needed to put it into action.

Grimacing, I twisted around in an attempt to reach my ankle. My fingers barely brushed the green rope that held me to the top of the post, despite my best efforts. I firmly decided that I would have to make do, and gritted my teeth. Straining, I started untying the rope. It was tangled pretty tightly around my ankle, so loosening the knot was much harder than it should have been.

Jake was still barking. "Just a minute, boy," I slurred down at him, not looking up from the task at hand. "I have to get out of this first." He instantly quieted at the sound of my voice, though a terrified whine occasionally slipped out.

My fingers were finally successful, and the rope slipped from my ankle. I plummeted to the ground much too quickly, and hit the concrete with a dull thud. I stayed there on my back for a few moments, allowing Jake to happily lick my face. Then I sat up and looked around.

In the several minutes it had taken me to untie myself, the sun had dropped even further from the sky. The shadows were thick, stretching across the entire city. I hadn't been outside when it was this dark, except for that drive from Central City with Vandal several days earlier, in a long time. And understandably, I didn't really like it that much.

I staggered wearily to my feet, whole body aching from the hard impact. I spared Jake a quick pat, trying to calm him down, and glanced around. "Okay, buddy. We'd better get back to the Metro Tower," I informed him quietly. I glanced in the direction of the Tower, and saw it in the distance, standing tall above all its smaller neighboring buildings. There was only one problem with my idea; it was at least ten minutes' walk to the Tower, even if I walked quickly, and the infected inside were bound to be awake and waiting to leave by now.

"Maybe we should find somewhere else to stay tonight," I suggested quickly, scanning the buildings all around our position. Unfortunately, they were doubtlessly already full of inhabitants. And I didn't really feel like making any new friends tonight.

Jake suddenly let out a whine of pure terror, and dropped to the ground at my feet. He hid his head under both paws.

"What is it, Jake?" I demanded, my head on the swivel. "Do you hear–"

That's when I saw them. Standing in the heavy shadows of a building not three hundred yards away, was a crowd of infected. Their pale skin almost glittered in the darkness, making them look like ghosts, and their eyes shone with a feral fury. They took turns lunging forward then leaping back as the sun burned them. They were hungry, and it was almost time for them to come outside and hunt.

I shot a desperate look towards the sun. It was nearly gone, leaving the faintest traces of sunlight to keep the infected at bay. I had maybe a minute to get to safety, if not less, and there was absolutely nowhere to go.

"Jake, come on. We've got to go," I said tensely, turning to haul my dog to his feet. I noticed for the first time that he had already stood, without help, and was staring towards the infected. His whole attitude had changed, and the hackles were up along his back as he snarled. I slowly turned to see what had suddenly made him so angry.

Three of the infected stood unmovingly in the middle of the crowd of their kind. They each held a snarling dog by the scruff of its neck. And these were no ordinary dogs. They were hairless, the dark veins just beneath the skin standing out clearly. I could see the whites of their eyes from where I stood, along with the bloody strands of saliva dripping from their snapping jaws.

I couldn't think of a word bad enough to describe the situation, so I didn't even try. "Jake, come on!" I grabbed the hair on the back of Jake's neck and tried to drag him away. But it was already too late.

The last of the sunlight vanished.

The infected released their holds on the dogs, who wasted no time springing forward. They raced towards us with horrifying speed, thin flanks heaving as they panted for air. I doubted they would make my death quick and painless, either. More like the other way around.

I really wished for the gun at that moment.

Tensing, I shoved the growling Jake behind me and hoped that Vandal wouldn't be too lonely as the last man on Earth, without Jake and I around to constantly annoy him.

Just as the first dog was within mere feet of me, a green arrow soared through the air and imbedded itself in the dog's side. It gave a strangled yelp, then dropped to the ground and writhed across the concrete. As I stared incredulously, two more arrows efficiently took out the other dogs.

The crowd of infected, which had been standing back and watching the scene play out, roared as one. They all raced forward towards me, vengeful expressions on their rotted faces.

"Are you even stupider than you were before? Get your ass over here!"

The human voice was so unexpected that I literally jumped, tearing my gaze from the swiftly-approaching infected. A blonde figure dressed in torn brown clothing gestured to me from the doorway of a building just to my left. I couldn't see his or her face from where I stood, but they were more than human enough for me. Tugging Jake after me, I ran full-out towards the building.

I could almost feel the warm, stinking breath of the infected on my heels. I gritted my teeth and ran even harder, focusing on the open doorway just ahead, and hoped that Jake was managing to keep up.

After what felt like an eternity, though it was probably only a few seconds, I reached the doorway. I darted inside, relived to see that Jake was following close to my heels, then the stranger slammed the door, which was painted bright yellow. It made a comforting clanking sound. The stranger quickly pushed several bolts home, and locked three or four thick chains into place. He stepped back, apparently satisfied.

I flinched as several dull thuds rang out: infected bouncing off the other side of the door. "Uh, thanks for saving us. I thought Jake and I were goners there for a minute," I said nervously. It was completely dark in the room, and I could only make out the stranger's silhouette. Even though I was safe from the infected now, that didn't stop me from getting a bit freaked out.

"What, don't recognize me?" came the stranger's voice. It was sort of familiar, but I couldn't place it.

"Not really, to be honest. It's a little dark in here," I admitted uneasily.

"Oh, right. Just a minute." The stranger's footsteps rang out as he walked over to the corner, and I tensed. A moment later, the room was flooded with light as he struck and match used it to light a candle.

I stared at the stranger. He was blonde and bearded, his hair nearly reaching to his shoulders. As I'd noticed earlier, he wore ragged brown clothes. The green hat perched jauntily on his head looked out of place with the rest of his subdued clothing.

I choked suddenly, almost killing myself after surviving the infected attack. "Ollie!" Now that I'd seen him up close, I easily recognized the Green Arrow. It had been hard there for a minute to recognize my former colleague. He had changed a lot, and was of course missing his emerald costume. I had hardly ever seen him out of it, back in the old days.

"Still pretty quick on the uptake are you, Wally?" he joked. Then he looked towards Jake. "Got a new friend, have you? Looks just like you."

"Yeah, red hair and red fur. Very funny. And I've got two of them, actually." When Ollie looked at me blankly, I added quickly, "Two new friends, I mean. Vandal's back at the Metro Tower."

"Vandal? Vandal _Savage_?" he blurted out, looking alarmed. "That crazy immortal guy who used to be listed in the League's files?"

"Yup, that's the one. Maybe I should explain myself a little better," I suggested. "We've got all night, after all."

He nodded, then sat down in one of two dilapidated wooden chairs and gestured for me to do the same. I relaxed against the wooden back of the chair, glad to finally be off my feet again. Jake dropped to the floor beside me, panting.

Ollie studied me for a while. "That was really stupid of you, Wally."

"What?" I asked defensively, caught off guard.

"Getting caught in my trap."

"Oh, you set up that rope of death out there?"

"Yeah, that was me. I've been trying to catch the infected and take care of them. I used to do it every night. But they've caught on to the trick recently," he admitted.

"What were you trying to do?" I demanded dubiously. "Wipe out the zombie population of the city one by one?"

"Once a hero, always a hero," he said with a shrug. "I can't just stand by and do nothing. Now, what have you been up to the past year?" he asked, changing the subject. "I haven't seen you around the city since you ran away from the Tower that night."

I flinched at his reference to my run from the Metro Tower roughly twelve months earlier. "Shayera told me to," I began awkwardly, swallowing hard.

Ollie raised his hands soothingly. "I know, Wally. I'm not accusing you of anything. You did what you had to do, and so did the rest of us."

I swallowed again and mustered a small smile. It was good to know that he didn't blame me for abandoning him and the others. "I've been in Central City all this time," I said. "I was on my own until a few days ago." Then I proceeded to explain everything that had happened to me since I'd found Jake, including Vandal's sudden appearance at my house.

"You always did live a bit of a more exciting life than the rest of us slow people," he said when I was done, grinning to show that he meant his comment as a joke.

"I'm one of the slow people now," I said wistfully. "I can move faster than usual sometimes, but I can't tell if the speed is really coming back or not."

"That's one good thing about being a hero with no special abilities: you've got nothing to lose."

"Yeah." I was grimly silent for a few minutes. "How did you manage to escape the Metro Tower? And more importantly, how are you even still _alive_?"

The archer shrugged, brow furrowing. "I guess the immunity wasn't just limited to you and Shayera," he said. "I never got myself tested back then, so I haven't got a clue. But immunity is the only thing that makes sense to me, so that's what I'm going with. Anyway, I managed to escape by using one of my smoke bomb arrows. I confused all the zombies with the smoke and escaped out the back. And Dinah always said those arrows were a useless waste of space." He smiled sadly, obviously reminiscing about the past.

I wasn't sure how to word my next question. "Did Dinah…?"

"I'd rather not talk about her right now, if that's okay," he said darkly, lips tightening.

I nodded understandingly.

The silence carried on for some time, both of us staring off into space and thinking about the things and people we'd lost, before I decided to break it. "So you've been staying here all this time?"

"Yeah, I was lucky enough to get this place before any of the zombies did. It's an old Queen Industries warehouse, where some of the company's out-of-date equipment was stored back in the day. That's why it's secure enough to keep the zombies out; lots of good security."

He stopped and looked at a watch on his left wrist, a look of dark somberness crossing his face. He stood and made his way to a large wooden crate in the corner; I followed him with my eyes. Something in his movements seemed practiced, routine.

"Ollie?" I ventured uneasily, watching as he opened the crate and began digging around inside it. I got ready to run if need be; anyone, even if I had once been friends with them, could go crazy thanks to the world we now lived in. "Uh, what are you doing over there?"

"It's time," he said simply. When he turned to face me, holding several objects I couldn't quite see in his hands, his expression was dark. "Haven't you had any…unexpected visitors the past few days?"

"Not unless you count all the infected lurking downstairs." I stood, sensing from both his body language and sudden change of attitude that something drastic was about to happen.

"They must not know you're here yet, then. Give it time." He walked to the door, and began setting out the various objects. I watched carefully as he pulled a round peephole open and began tossing a couple of the objects out. I realized as the candlelight caught the objects that they were a dark, glistening green. Kryptonite.

"What are you doing?" I asked with a sudden sinking feeling.

Ollie peered at something just outside, then slammed the peephole and locked it up tight. "A yellow door, made of the strongest metal on the planet, with a row of Kryptonite out front," he said. "It's to keep _them_ out."

I suddenly flashed back to the day Vandal had arrived back at my home, when I had dreamed about my uncle Barry. _"__You're going to be joining all those that you lost so tragically very soon," _he had snarled at me in the dream._ "If you think that you've seen horror yet, if you think that you've seen terror, you're wrong. You haven't seen __anything__ yet. Wait until _they_ come for you. Then you'll find out the __true__ meaning of fear."_

I didn't exactly believe in psychics or anything like that, but I didn't really disagree that there could be some way to tell the future. Not with everything I'd seen while working with the League. And at that moment, I had a very bad feeling about the dream. "Who do you mean?" I managed to croak, suddenly feeling as though I was choking.

Something slammed into the yellow door, which shook under the impact, but didn't collapse.

"The others," he answered simply, then motioned for me to see for myself.

Swallowing hard, wanting nothing more than to _not_ look, I walked over and jerked the peephole open before I could change my mind.

The first thing I saw was Diana, still wearing her Wonder Woman costume. It was ripped and torn, and her once-beautiful hair was in ratty tangles. She was clearly infected, skin a pasty yellow and eyes a blazing red. When she saw me, she pulled back her lips and snarled loudly, saliva dripping down her chin.

I almost threw up, but managed to swallow back the acid taste of bile just in time. Then I saw those standing behind her, at a safe distance. Superman, Kara, Mr. Terrific. Vixen, Black Canary. John.

Then I did throw up, wheeling away from the door and empting the too-few contents of my stomach all across the floor.

Ollie raced over to slam the peephole closed, then moved a safe distance away from the door again. He stared at me as I wiped my mouth off with the back of a hand, unable to believe what I'd just seen. "They come every night," he muttered solemnly. "We're like rats in a trap, Wally. It's only a matter of time before our own teammates kill us."

I slowly slid down the wall to sit on the floor, shaking with horror.

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Reviews feed me, people. And you don't want me to starve, do you? *evil grin*


	13. Chapter Twelve: Back to the Tower

Chapter Twelve: Back to the Tower

When morning finally came, after an eternity of listening to my former friends beating on the walls, I was exhausted. I had stayed awake, eyes wide and staring, the entire night. Even Ollie had drifted off to sleep, as far away from the yellow door as he could get, but I just couldn't force my heavy eyelids to close.

Clark, Diana, John. They were all still alive, and infected. They were mindless zombies, and would kill me as soon as look at me. For that very reason, I almost wished that they had died, like all the others. That might have been more bearable than _this_.

Ollie woke up when my watch read 8:47. He stretched and got to his feet, then glanced over at me. "Didn't you get any sleep last night?" he questioned dubiously, making me think that I looked pretty bad. I certainly felt it. My entire body was stiff as I staggered sluggishly to my feet, and my eyes burned.

"No," I replied shortly.

"Oh. Uh, must have been pretty hard for you last night, huh?"

"Yeah," I said, voice cracking. "It was."

He looked uncomfortable for a few seconds, then hurried over and checked the peephole. "The sun's up. What are you planning to do today?"

"I'm going to try to get back into the Metro Tower," I said tiredly, rubbing my aching eyes. "You should come with me. It's better than staying here by yourself."

He looked reluctant, but I could tell that he was considering my offer. "Is the Tower secure enough to keep _them_ out?"

"Yeah," I lied, though I really had no idea. "It should be."

"Okay. I guess I might as well come with you. Better than hanging around this place." He set about gathering his meager belongings in a pair of worn plastic sacks. I couldn't help noticing that he made sure to collect all his arrows, as well as every chunk of Kryptonite he owned.

When he was finally ready, I opened the door. We stepped outside into the sunlight, Jake sleepily following. All of the infected had vanished, and the three infected dogs that Ollie had shot were already decomposing. We paused to gather up the Kryptonite outside the door, then headed on our way.

"What now?" Ollie asked me. "You said that the zombies are staying in the ground floor of the Tower, didn't you?"

I nodded. "We're just going to have to make a run for it." Then a figurative light bulb went off inside my brain. "Is there a pay phone around here somewhere? I thought I could maybe call Vandal and have him open the elevator just as we got there."

"That would probably be best," he agreed. "I'm not really in the mood to be killed today." He veered off the sidewalk and led Jake and I along the winding streets of Metropolis. We finally reached a payphone, set maybe four blocks from the Metro Tower. It had somehow managed to survive the nightly prowling of the infected.

Ollie got the change compartment open with the tip of one of his arrows, and all the coins poured out onto the sidewalk. I gathered up a few coins, then poked them into the right slot. Once I could hear the dial tone, I punched in the number for a secure line at the Metro Tower. I was half-expecting it not to work, so I was actually kind of surprised when I heard Vandal's suspicious greeting.

"Um…it's me. Wally," I said, then instantly felt stupid. There was to real need to introduce myself; who else would be calling? One of the infected?

"_West?"_ Vandal said incredulously. _"I, er, thought you'd gone and got yourself killed. So you're all right, then?"_ He cleared his throat, sounding gruff.

"Yeah, we're both fine," I said shakily, trying not to think about how close Jake and I had come to dying. "Um, I've got someone with me right now."

There was dead silence for a few moments, then, _"Someone who isn't infected?"_

"Yeah. We're going to be there in about five minutes, and try to make a run for the elevator. Could you control it remotely with the computer system or something?" I asked him.

Something rustled in the background. _"Fine,"_ he said gruffly_. "But don't think I'm going to be here to save you every time you get your ass into trouble."_ The line sharply went dead, leaving only static.

I smirked, and hung up the phone. "He'll do it."

"Are you sure he can be trusted?" Ollie asked uneasily. "He's a _super villain_, Wally."

"_Was_ a super villain. He can be trusted," I said confidently, walking in the direction of the Tower.

He quickly jogged to catch up with me. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I know for a fact that he doesn't want to be left all alone, the last non-infected on the planet. So he's not going to let us die. Simple as that."

"I hope you're right," he said dubiously, but left it at that.

True to what I'd told Vandal, we reached the Metro Tower in about five minutes. Then we stood just outside the building and stared into the inner darkness. The same as it had been the day before, with piles of sleeping infected littering the floor. Thankfully, none of them had seemed to have heard us approaching the building.

"How the hell are we supposed to get by all those guys?" Ollie hissed at me pessimistically. "If we wake even _one_ of them up, we're dead."

I scowled at him. "Jake and I managed to get out through here yesterday, so I'm sure you can manage," I muttered irritably, and started inside. My dog at my heels, I crept cautiously across the large room. The elevator was in sight, but it felt like there were millions of infected blocking the way. There were probably only about a hundred of them.

We had almost made it to the elevator when there was a cheerful dinging noise that sounded as loud as an explosion. We froze, and the elevator doors clanged open. At the same time, most of the infected scattered across the room sprang to their feet.

"Run!" I shouted, then followed my own advice. I got to the elevator just in time, Ollie and Jake arriving a few seconds later. The doors clanked shut as a sea of infected swept right at us.

I sagged with relief against the wall, then quickly straightened again when I noticed the dried smear of blood. It was the exact same place where I'd leaned against the wall when Vandal and I had first arrived at the Tower.

"That was only half as hard as I expected it to be," Ollie said, rubbing his eyes. "Now let's hope this place is strong enough to keep a pissed off zombie Superman out."

I swallowed hard.

The doors smoothly clanged apart at the second floor, revealing Vandal. He was standing with his arms folded, just outside the elevator. "Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow. I never would have expected _you_ to be one who survived," he said matter-of-factly.

Ollie growled something unintelligible under his breath, which I wisely didn't ask him to repeat. "How does this bastard know who I am?" he demanded of me.

I reluctantly stepped out of the elevator, almost wishing I could go down and join the infected rather than the alternative. Vandal and Ollie weren't getting off to the best of starts. "He came here once before and searched the records. That's how he found me," I explained calmly.

Ollie looked infuriated, for no real reason I could determine. "Like I told you. Once a bad guy, always a bad guy," he said darkly. "Now, have you got some kind of food around here? I haven't eaten for a few days, and I'm starving."

"The Founders conference room," I told him, ignoring the first part of his comment. "There's a refrigerator in the corner."

"Okay, thanks." He walked off in the right direction, Jake following. He had apparently picked up the fact that food was involved with where Ollie was headed, and was going to get his share.

"You should have left him out there," Vandal said bluntly, as soon as Ollie was out of sight. "Now we're going to have to make a new rationing schedule, and all of us will get even less than before with a new mouth to feed. This was the stupidest move you've ever made, in a history of stupid moves."

"Gee, thanks." I debated following Ollie to the conference room, but he wasn't exactly in the best of moods, either.

"And don't thank me for saving your speedy little ass. I _live_ for making sure you survive," he said cynically.

"Thanks," I uttered dryly.

He was quiet for a few moments, so I turned to go. "What happened out there, West?" he asked finally, making me pause. "Don't think I didn't notice the blood on your head."

I frowned; I'd been trying to avoid mentioning the accident, thanks to the extreme stupidity I had displayed in that situation. After a whole year of surviving on my own, I was starting to get weak. Another stupid mistake like that one could get me killed. "Nothing," I said sullenly, then hurried away before he could force me to explain further.

* * *

A few hours later, I stood beside one of the few windows near the top of the Metro Tower. It was the first opportunity I'd had to be alone since what had happened back at Ollie's place, and I was trying desperately to keep my mind away from the horrifying incident.

The city stretched out below me, abandoned cars crowding the streets. Tall clumps of weeds had broken through the concrete, and waved in a faint breeze. I could see a pair of lions slinking through the shadows a few blocks away, on the hunt.

I closed my eyes, raising one hand to massage my temple. In my mind's eye, I could still see Diana standing just outside the absurdly yellow door. Her skin the color of a corpse, her eyes blazing horrifying crimson. Her teeth yellowed and broken. Her once pristine Wonder Woman costume stained with blood and dirt.

If I hadn't had nightmares before when I slept, I certainly would now.

"Queen told me what happened."

I whirled around with a very undignified gasp, eyes flying open. Vandal stood behind me, looking mildly suspicious. "Why do you keep following me?" I blurted out, before I could help myself.

"Don't flatter yourself, West," he said crossly, features darkening. "I thought you might like to talk about what happened, instead of bottling it up inside, but apparently not." He turned to go, then paused. "And I thought you might like to know that I've nearly completed a cure for the infection." And then he left.

I couldn't help my jaw from dropping open as I stared after him. Was he serious? Could he _really_ cure the infected?

Swallowing hard, I turned back to the window. I shouldn't get my hopes up for nothing; only time would tell whether the infected could be cured or not. I could only wait.

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Sorry this chapter was shorter than normal, but I thought it was a good place to end things. *evil grin* Please review?


	14. Chapter Thirteen: The Cure

Chapter Thirteen: The Cure

Several days passed, during which nothing of any real interest happened. I divided most of my time between avoiding Ollie and Vandal whenever they got into another argument and exploring the upper floors of the Metro Tower for more clues about any Leaguers who could have survived that first attack a year ago.

I knew it was a useless endeavor, but that didn't stop me from hoping. Even when I found absolutely nothing except for the blankets and food wrappers I'd already found in the conference room, I still didn't lose hope. Someone else besides Ollie had to have survived the attack. Or so I told myself.

One afternoon, I was sifting through a worn cardboard box of papers. Inside were transcripts of all the important Founders meetings, which had been waiting for their turn to be typed up and securely locked into the computer system.

The job of writing down these transcripts had originally belonged to Batman, and I could easily tell which papers he had written. They were perfectly neat, and briskly described the most important details. However, he had handed the job down to me after a month or two, announcing that it would keep me from fidgeting so much during meetings.

The pages I had written were easy to tell apart from those belonging to Bats. I had gotten in a big hurry while writing them. As someone had began speaking, I quickly wrote down half their words then finished writing the sentence the way I predicted they would say it. More often than not, whoever was talking would say something completely different, leaving me to scribble out my version and quickly scrawl down what they had _really_ said. I had also included lots of ludicrous details to amuse myself, which weren't really that relevant. Such as the way Diana was staring at Bats, or the farm boy drawl that had occasionally slipped out in Superman's words.

I was such an idiot back then.

"Hey, Wally."

I jumped, almost dropping the stack of papers I'd been scanning over. I turned around to face Ollie, who was peering into the room. "What's going on?" I asked wearily, putting the papers back inside the box and closing the lid.

"Savage wants us to come down to the computers. The main set, on the second floor," he clarified. "He says he's got something to show us."

"What kind of something?"

"Something about that so-called cure of his."

I quickly hurried out of the room and down the stairs. Jake padded out of one of the rooms and followed and as we rushed to meet Vandal.

When the three of us reached the second floor, Vandal was typing at one of the computers. He turned around as we approached. "I'm fairly certain that I've secured the correct chemical formula for the cure," he said, leaving his sentence hanging in a way that made me think a 'but' was coming.

"Really?" I said eagerly, mind flying with all the possibilities of what we could accomplish with the cure. I'd barely been able to get the cure out of my mind, ever since he'd first told me about it a few days earlier.

"But," he continued, "I need a subject to test it on."

"Can't you use one of us?" Ollie questioned dubiously.

"I'm afraid not. As it was West's blood that was used to create the cure, it could have untold side effects on him. And with you, there would be no way to tell if the cure worked. You're already immune, and you have no special abilities that would come back if the virus was absorbed out of your system."

"What are you saying?" I asked suspiciously, suddenly having a sinking feeling that I knew where Vandal was going with this dialogue.

Vandal turned around again and brought up a live security feed. The camera showed an infected that was obviously female lurking by the elevator. Her arm was bleeding heavily, an injury that I assumed had been inflicted on her by one of her own kind.

"I found a crate of heavy sedation in the lab I've been working out of. It would only take one injection to put the subject out for an hour, maybe two. Plenty of time to test the eligibility of the cure."

I frowned, thoughts wistfully drifting to the League members I knew firsthand to be alive and infected somewhere in Metropolis. If Vandal's experiment worked, then they could all be cured. I could get one of my best friends back, John.

"No," Ollie snapped, finally getting the idea. "No way are you bringing one of those zombies in here, Savage!"

"Stop and consider this a minute, Queen. If I inject that creature with the cure, and it works, we'll be able to save her life. She's going to die without medical assistance, and probably soon. The wound on her arm is severe. And if _she_ can be cured…"

"I said no. Bringing one of those monsters in here is the perfect way to get us all killed!"

"Let's think about this a minute," I interrupted quickly, trying to stop them before they could come to blows with each other. "Vandal has a point, Ollie. Think of what could happen if this works."

"Oh, I'm thinking all right. Thinking of what will happen if it _doesn't_ work and that thing kills us all!"

I brainstormed for a minute, then a figurative light bulb went off inside my brain. "What about Dinah? What if she could be cured?"

For a minute, I thought he was weakening. Then he abruptly shook his head. "Even so, I don't want that scumbag _anywhere_ near her!"

I sighed heavily and looked away from him. Ollie had changed a lot since the old days. The constant stress and terror had taken a toll on his ability to reason. I wasn't saying he was crazy or anything, but he wasn't the same person he had been before.

"Let's vote," Vandal said suddenly, inspiration evidently striking him as well. "I say we should bring her in."

"No way in hell." Needless to say, this was Ollie's vote.

"I agree with Vandal," I said slowly, avoiding looking at Ollie.

"Damn it, Wally! Are you trying to commit _suicide_?" he shouted.

Jake whined, obviously sensing the tension in the air. Tail between his legs, he hurried from the room to hide elsewhere in the Tower. I was glad, because I definitelydidn't want him around for what was about to happen. Ollie was right; the situation could very easily get out of our hands.

"Well, that's two to one," Vandal said cheerfully, minimizing the live camera feed and brushing his hands against the sides of his pants. "Let's get started, shall we? Someone needs to go down in the elevator and lure her in."

Ollie sullenly folded his arms and leaned against the wall. "Don't look at me, Savage."

Vandal brandished a clear syringe, filled with yellow-ish liquid. "I need to stay up here and control the elevator, while waiting with this to sedate her."

I swallowed hard, realizing just what he intended. "I'll go," I said, deciding to volunteer freely before I was _volunteered_.

"Good choice." Vandal brought up the elevator controls and gestured for me to get a move-on.

"This is crazy!" Ollie yelled, as I started trudging slowly towards the elevator. "Do you have any idea how _stupid_ this plan of yours is?"

The elevator doors clanged smoothly apart, and I stepped reluctantly inside. I waved halfheartedly at Ollie, who was still ranting loudly towards Vandal, then watched the door close and trap me inside. It began to move downwards, much too quickly for my liking.

I turned in a circle and scanned the inside of the elevator. It had always seemed cavernous before, capable of holding at least fifteen people safely, but now it seemed positively tiny. Much too small when I would be locked in for at least thirty seconds with someone who wanted to kill me and tear the flesh from my bones, though not necessarily in that order.

I smiled weakly up at the flashing red light of a security camera above my head, just in case they were watching. I doubted it, since Vandal was the one manning the equipment, but you never knew.

And then there was a cheerful dinging sound, and the doors glided smoothly open. I pressed myself to the far wall, feeling like a trapped rat, and hoped for the best.

The infected stared at me while I stared back at her, trying not to start freaking out. I could see the standard mounds of sleeping infected behind her. She drew back her lips and snarled wetly, crouching like she was preparing to pounce. I waved, swallowing hard at the same time.

She was apparently very hungry, because she sprang forward without checking the elevator to see if it was safe first, like some kind of animal. Which I suppose was exactly what she was. Just as her second leg entered the elevator, the doors slammed shut. She paused for a moment to look behind her, then threw herself at me.

I somehow managed to duck, dodging her claws and darting to the opposite corner. She didn't even pause between attacks, instantly wheeling around and coming after me yet again.

She slammed into me with the force of a sledgehammer, pressing me against the elevator doors. I threw out both hands and barely managed to hold her off, muscles straining under her unnatural strength. She snapped her jaws just inches from the tip of my nose, her breath rancid and smelling of decay. She clawed at me with both hands at the same time, and it was all I could do to keep her away from my throat.

"Can't this thing go any faster?" I shouted in a strangled voice, towards the blinking light of the camera. Her weight was shoving me even harder against the metal doors, and I was starting to need more air really quickly. Her glistening yellow teeth were getting closer and closer, and I could see down the back of her throat. It wasn't the best of views, to be honest. Especially not when there was dried blood and what looked mildly like a piece of crushed bone back there.

I was getting a very bad feeling, one that insisted I wasn't going to survive this little ordeal. And had the elevator completely stopped? Because surely it had been more than thirty seconds. I felt like I'd been trying to hold the snarling infected away from my throat for _hours_.

And then, as though signaled by my very thoughts, the doors clanged apart behind me. I toppled backwards and landed hard on the carpet, the infected now on top of me. I managed to pull my legs out of the way just in time, before they could be chopped off in the closing elevator doors.

I heard Ollie shouting, but didn't try to focus on his angry tirade. Arms shaking, I held the infected away from me as she snarled and continued fighting to tear into my throat. I gritted my teeth as she fought even harder, slowly getting closer and closer…

Vandal appeared from nowhere and stabbed the syringe into the infected's arm. She stopped growling and all the breath came from her lungs in a startled hiss. Then she dropped limply down on top of me, eyes closing. Even though I knew she was unconscious, that didn't stop me from frantically struggling to get away from her. I pushed her body away and leapt to my feet, gasping for air.

"You okay?" Ollie asked me, looking worried.

"Yeah," I somehow managed to reply.

"Great work," Vandal said distractedly, intently studying his new specimen. "Let's get her to the lab."

* * *

It was about thirty minutes later. Ollie and I were standing in the hall outside Vandal's lab of choice. He had vanished inside with the infected and closed the door, apparently choosing to perform the experiment in total solitude.

Ollie had been complaining the whole time about how reckless I had been, putting my life in Vandal's hands. He went on and on about how Vandal could have just let me die. I tried a couple of times to remind him that if I died, there would be no cure. But when he didn't listen, I finally just gave up.

We were interrupted as Vandal shouted from inside the lab. I raced in ahead of Ollie and Jake, afraid that the infected had somehow gotten lose and attacked. I could already see a clear mental image of the infected tearing into Vandal's unprotected neck with her snapping jaws.

But what I really saw made me stop in absolute shock.

Where the infected had previously been strapped to the table lay a clearly human woman. What was left of her hair was lank and blonde, and her skin had faded from decomposing to the palest white color. Her chest still rose and fell with unnatural speed, but her breath was gradually beginning to slow. She was unconscious, heavily sedated.

I tried to say something, but my lips couldn't form any sensible words. I was stunned, and with good reason.

Ollie was staring with complete amazement at the woman on the lab table, and I knew my expression likely mirrored his. "Are you saying that it worked?" he demanded incredulously.

"So quick on the uptake, Queen," Vandal said cynically. "But yes, that's what I'm saying. If I can duplicate this chemical compound enough times, I can cure the entire infected population of the world."

Feeling dizzy, I leaned against the wall for support. With the help of my blood, we could cure everyone. It would almost be like nothing had ever happened, and things could finally start going back to normal.

Before I could make even a single comment, what felt like an earthquake shook the whole building. Then the lights went out.

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Please review? *looks hopeful* One chapter to go... (I know, shocking!)


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Fight for Survival

**A/N:** I hope this chapter ties up everything nicely for you guys. It feels really weird for this story to finally be finished, after over a year has passed… O_O

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Chapter Fourteen: Fight for Survival

"What's going on?" I whispered frantically. The heavy darkness and sudden silence all around us made me not want to speak very loudly, for some weird reason. I peered down at my watch and saw that it was after seven o'clock. Night had fallen.

Vandal didn't answer me, grabbing a plastic bag full of syringes and pushing past. He raced in the direction of the main computer system without looking back. I exchanged a look with Ollie, then grabbed Jack by the scruff of the neck. I dragged him into the lab with the sedated infected, then closed the door. It was the best I could do to keep Jake safe, when I didn't even really know what was happening.

"We'd better go find out what's going on," I told Ollie, trying not to sound nervous. Then I realized that he was gone. He had evidentially run off and left me alone in the hallway.

Trying not to feel goaded, I hurried through the maze of hallways until I reached the main computers. There was no sign of Ollie, only Vandal huddled over the keyboards, typing away. I saw the orange emergency power light glowing, which explained how they were still working.

"What is it?" I asked him, as another loud crash rang out through the building. It sounded suspiciously like it was coming from the elevator doors, and I cast an uneasy look in that direction.

"See for yourself," he said direly, pausing to bring up the live camera feed onscreen. I stared with horror at the sight of Diana the infected pounding relentlessly against the doors on the ground floor, trying to break her way inside. And from what I could see, she was succeeding.

I declared my favorite expletive for such situations, while Vandal resumed typing. "What are you trying to do?" I asked shakily, as he minimized the live feed again. I tried not to think about what would happen if the infected Leaguers got inside. It would be a bloodbath.

"I'm trying to intensify the preventative electrical charges in the door, to keep your little friends from getting inside," he muttered distractedly. "But it seems to be too late. Everything except the emergency power is out, and the beautiful Wonder Woman is tearing into the elevator. It's only a matter of time before they make it past what few defenses are automatically in place."

Suddenly feeling very weak, I swallowed hard. "So we're going to die," I said dully, voice void of all emotion. After all this time, it was finally coming down to this.

He finally stopped typing and turned to face me, bearded face covered with determination. "Not if I can help it, West. I don't want you and Queen murdered in my home, such as this is. The bloodstains would be terribly hard to get out."

I mustered a small smile at his sarcasm, then tried to get my head in the game. If Vandal wanted me to survive, then I would try my best. I wouldn't wish the fate of last man on Earth to anyone, even my worst enemy. Which was, coincidentally, just what Vandal Savage had been a few years ago, in that future Superman had supposedly gotten zapped to. "So what can we do? Supes and Kara are, well, super. And Diana has the whole Amazonian strength thing going for her. GL has his ring. And that's not even including Canary, Terrific, and Mari."

Vandal reached for the gun from where it rested beside the computer. We hadn't even touched the thing in days; there had been no real need to defend ourselves from anything inside the Tower. But that had really changed now, for the worse. "Their muscles should be weakened and decayed because of the virus running through their bloodstreams. That will work in our advantage. They certainly aren't powerless, but they aren't as strong as they used to be."

I nodded slowly, then looked at the gun. "You're not going to use that on them, are you?" I asked quietly, thinking of the four human members who could so easily be killed by a bullet entering the right place in their body.

"If I have to, West, I will," he said firmly, eyes narrowing.

Deciding not to argue, I averted my eyes from his stormy gaze and looked towards a sudden noise near the edge of the room. Ollie came racing in, clutching a bag of his personal belongings, one of the two he had brought along when we'd come from the warehouse.

"Let me guess," he said quietly. "It's _them_."

"Yeah," I said dully, as another impact against the elevator doors shook the building. "And let _me_ guess: you've got all your arrows and kryptonite."

"If I'm going down, Wally, I'm going down fighting."

I don't know why I was so disappointed in the two of them. It made sense for them to want to fight back, to save themselves as best they could from being torn to shreds. But I didn't like it, not one bit. These were my friends that they were planning to fight against, one of them my very best. And even if they were now savage animals, this was extremely hard for me.

A sudden klaxon sounded, and I fought the urge to cover my ears. "What's that mean?" I shouted over the noise, though I had a sinking feeling that I already knew.

"They've broken through the elevator doors!" Vandal yelled back, cocking the gun. "They're coming!"

Ollie swore, glancing over his shoulder towards the elevator. "We'd better get to one of the labs! We can defend ourselves better when we're not out in the open like this!"

"West, here!" Vandal tossed the gun to me, which I fumbled to catch before it could hit the floor. Then he grabbed the plastic bag full of syringes and raced from the room. Ollie followed him without looking back. I, on the other hand, paused and glanced worriedly towards the elevator. The doors shuddered violently as something heavy slammed against them. I turned and ran for my life, heart hammering almost painfully against my ribs.

The others were racing towards the stairs, so I quickly followed. Even though I knew it was stupid to run _up_ when being followed, just like everyone always found out in the movies, I thought my chances of survival might be better if I wasn't left all alone with only a gun to defend myself.

Gripping the metal handrail and focusing on not slipping, I bolted up the flights of stairs, panting for breath. Something exploded behind me, and I had a very bad feeling that the infected Leaguers had made it inside. That made me kick my pace up a notch, and I gritted my teeth together and ignored my aching lungs as much as I possibly could.

Just ahead, Vandal and Ollie veered off the stairs, at the third floor. They vanished out of sight, down a corridor. Hearing another crash behind me, I desperately took the remaining steps three at a time and threw myself after them. The Leaguers were likely only seconds behind me.

"Wally, come _on_!" Ollie was waving to me from the end of the hall, upper body protruding through an open doorway. I bolted towards his waving arm, and into the room. Ollie slammed the door behind me and started moving pieces of furniture in front of it.

"Let's hope there isn't another entrance into this room, or we're sunk," I gasped out, quickly scanning the inside of the room. There weren't any doors, or even windows. Everything seemed safe. I quickly helped Ollie move a ratty-looking sofa in front of the door, then joined Vandal by the far wall. He had opened the sack, and was brandishing a syringe like a deadly weapon.

Ollie tossed his bag down onto a table and ripped it open. Pulling out his foldable bow, he unfolded it and expertly inserted an arrow. Its tip glittered brightly at one end with a shard of Kryptonite.

"Maybe they won't be able to find us," I said hopefully, feeling nauseous at the thought of the arrow protruding from either Clark or Kara.

He was rummaging in his bag again, ignoring me like I'd never even spoken. He pulled out a dented metal can of paint, and quickly pried the top off. Crossing the room to the door, he splashed paint all across it. Brilliant yellow shone against the muted gray door.

"Ingenious," Vandal said cynically, arching a single brow. "When about to fight for your life, redecorate the room. Though your color of choice seems like it should be more along the lines of green, Queen."

Ollie ignored him, hurrying back over. Before I could guess what he was about to do, he slung more of the yellow paint all over me. I shielded my face with both hands and the gun just in time, but that didn't stop the paint from covering my clothes and just about every other bit of me. As I slowly lowered my hands again, Vandal swore colorfully, receiving the exact same treatment. I couldn't help noticing that sunshine yellow wasn't really the color he looked best again.

"Green Lantern's weakness is the color yellow," he told Vandal briskly, tossing the last of the paint all over his own clothes. "His ring is powerless against it."

"That would have been handy to know back when I frequently wanted to kill him," Vandal said thoughtfully. "But I don't see how it really helps the current situation. So he can't blast us to pieces with his little toy. That won't stop him from gnawing the flesh off our bones."

He was interrupted as green light flooded under the door, which shook violently. But it didn't give, the yellow paint stopping GL's ring from proving effective. I sighed with relief, wondering if we were going to be able to survive this after all.

Then the door exploded inward, tearing from its hinges. The sofa and small tables we had put in front of the door were thrown away. Diana stood in the doorway, the others just behind her, lips curled back with rage and saliva dripping from her jaws. Her eyes flashed with hunger when she saw us, and my stomach lurched.

"Take that!" Ollie shouted, throwing several jagged chunks of Kryptonite towards the invaders. Superman and Kara instantly collapsed in agony, writhing across the floor and clawing uselessly at the poisonous stones. Unfortunately, that did nothing for the fact that Diana, John, Mr. Terrific, Black Canary, and Vixen were all slinking towards us, faces alight with savage glee.

"Shoot!" Vandal shouted at me, as the Leaguers crept closer. I could see the whites of their eyes, and trembled with horror. "West! Shoot them, damn it!"

My finger reached involuntarily for the trigger, doing as Vandal said, but continued to rebel. My hands were shaking as I tried to aim the weapon and failed. They were still coming right at me, slowly stalking their prey and apparently savoring the tangible fear in the air. My throat and mouth were dry, but I found that I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill my former teammates, even if they were infected monsters who wanted to murder me.

"Do it!" Vandal yelled, voice sounding shakier than it usually did.

But I couldn't, even as the Leaguers got disturbingly close to me. I very nearly squeezed my eyes shut, but just barely managed to keep them open. This was it. It was time for me to die.

Diana snarled once more, then leapt towards me. The gun slipped from my sweaty hands as I threw up both hands to block her attack. She slammed into me with amazing force, and we both toppled to the ground. I vaguely heard Vandal and Ollie shouting, presumably fending off attacks from the others, then concentrated on keeping myself alive. It was hard enough without letting my mind drift off into the clouds.

She was leaning down towards my face, yellowed fangs gnashing and snapping inches from the tip of my nose. Her breath was absolutely rank, and it was all I could do not to throw up right then and there. My arms were straining as I held her weight off me, and already starting to shake. Even with decaying muscles and a bit less strength than Amazons normally possessed, Diana was much stronger than I would ever be.

Diana's hand suddenly reached out in a blur of speed, clawed fingers wrapping themselves around my neck. They were cold and clammy, the way I imagined death itself would feel. I struggled weakly, trying my best to buck her off, but she wouldn't budge. Her weight was pressing down even more insistently, and I was starting to run out of air.

_Oh God. This is it, _I thought dimly, resigned to the fact that I was finally about to die. I could almost see Linda, Bats, and all the others I cared about waiting for me, shining with soft golden light. The beautiful image in my mind's eye was almost enough to make me forget about the pain in my throat as Diana savagely throttled the life out of me.

_I survived as long as I could, _I told myself sadly. _There's nothing more I could have done. _Staring up at Diana's zombie face, twisted with animalistic fury, I stopped fighting and waited for it to all be over, finally. After so long.

Then the winged figure landed beside me and hit Diana with a mace.

Blessed oxygen flooded my lungs as Diana's clammy hands slipped from my throat. She fell over and hit the ground with a dull thud, passing out from the blunt trauma to her head. I gasped like a fish out of water and quickly sat up, one hand flying to touch my bruised throat. Blinking away the gray spots that continuously flickered across my vision, I stared up at the shadowed figure before me, hardly daring to hope. I tried to say something, but my lips wouldn't cooperate.

The figure abruptly turned away, raising the glittering metal mace, and gave a familiar battle cry. Goose bumps broke out across my bare arms. Then the figure raced into battle, helping out Vandal and Ollie. I hazily noticed another new figure in the darkness, wearing a long blue coat. I couldn't make out his features, but the coat looked vaguely familiar.

I struggled to my feet, backing towards the wall behind me and watching as the battle played out around me. The winged figure easily took out the remaining Leaguers, while the man in the coat assisted with the help of a metal baseball bat. They made a pretty good team, I'd give them that.

The man in the coat knocked Mari to the floor with his bat, where she growled weakly but didn't try to get back up again. He stepped back at put the bat on his shoulder, as a stunned silence fell over the dark room. "According to the Conspiracy, most of the infected are highly affected by metal. They cause tooth decay and double vision, which is why most of them choose not to stay inside metal buildings. That could be why this bat was so effective."

"Or maybe she passed out because you hit her on the head," the winged figure retorted.

"There could also be that theory, I suppose."

Vandal got up from where he had been sprawled on the floor, steadying himself against the wall with one hand. He shot our rescuers a suspicious look, but didn't say anything. Instead, he grabbed the plastic sack of syringes and hurried to inject those unconscious all around him. I felt a surge of relief of amazement that this was really happening. Diana, GL, Superman, Kara, Mr. Terrific, Vixen, and Canary were all about to be cured. It was a _miracle_.

Taking a deep breath, I tore my eyes from Vandal and slowly turned towards the winged figure. Silently praying that my assumptions were right, I whispered hesitantly, "Shayera?"

The figure turned towards me, and slowly stepped closer, from the thick shadows. My gaze ran over the short and tangled orange-red hair, emerald eyes, and angry scar running along her temple. Then my surrogate sister reached out to give me a big hug.

I melted against her, squeezing my eyes closed to keep from crying, which would have made me look like a total dork. But I couldn't help feeling like I might hyperventilate; none of this seemed _real_. The living hell that had been my life for the last year was finally starting to turn around. After everything I had been through, my dreams were finally starting to come true. As sappy as that sounded.

"H…how did you find us?" I choked out, finally pulling away from her. I wiped furtively at my eyes to erase any evidence of my tears.

"There was some kind of signal broadcasted over the radio channels. Vic and I found it about a week ago and followed it here," Shayera said, in the voice I hadn't heard outside my dreams for twelve months.

Vic. I glanced at the man in the coat, suddenly recognizing the Question, aka Victor Sage. "How…why…I mean–"

"That would be the one I broadcast from our location, searching for survivors," Vandal said in a self-satisfied voice, finished with his task. He stepped over, Ollie following warily. "The one _you both_ thought was useless."

"It seemed like it was at the time," Ollie retorted, scowling.

"Wally, I never would have imagined our meeting to be like this," Shayera spoke up again, sounding amazed. She gestured at my companions. "Vandal Savage, Oliver Queen. You picked the weirdest pair of allies I've ever seen."

"Hey!" Ollie exclaimed, while Vandal simply looked aloof.

"If it weren't for them, I probably would have died during these past few weeks," I told her honestly, sparing the smallest of grins. "But, Shayera…seriously, how did you survive? I thought…"

"A few of us managed to survive the attack, and holed up here," she answered, eyes distant as she was apparently immersed in memories. "We were here for weeks, and food was starting to run out. We were like rats in a trap. Then we found out about a safe place in the country, where the infected didn't roam. There was a message on the radio, much like the one you guys sent out."

I felt a flash of déjà vu, remembering the note I'd found in the upper floors of the Metro Tower. "Is it really–" I began hesitantly, almost afraid to hear what she would say.

Her lips curved into a smile, and she touched my shoulder. "Yes, Wally. It's out there. There are other people there, people who aren't infected. It's a modern-day Eden."

"I hate to spoil your fantasy," Vandal began calmly, "but you won't need this so-called Eden for much longer."

Shayera visibly bristled. "What are you talking about, Savage?"

Vandal pointed to me, and I shifted awkwardly. "His blood cures the infected."

But Vic and Shayera gawked at me, as did Ollie, even though he already knew the little tidbit. "It really cures them?" Vic demanded. He looked really weird with, you know, a _face_. "It could just be a camouflaging biomanipulation, a new involuntary defense mechanism that the infected have. They could have had it this entire time, without us knowing. The boundaries of the Conspiracy are expanding even as we speak."

I ignored him. "It really works. We captured an infected and tested it on her. She's human." I thought of the woman sedated in the lab on the second floor, and couldn't help feeling a burst of happiness.

"I wouldn't have believed it myself, except for the fact that I've seen it with my own eyes," Ollie announced dryly. "I thought they were both crazy at first. But hey, the zombie lady down in the lab isn't a zombie anymore, which is proof enough for me."

"As should be _that_," Vandal said nonchalantly, staring gesturing to something behind him.

We all turned to look, and saw Dinah sprawled across the floor a few feet away. The gruesome gray of her skin was starting to fade, and her rapid breathing was slowing. The cure was obviously beginning to take hold.

Ollie hurried over to kneel beside her, a strange expression on his face. He carefully took one of her hands between both of his, and something that looked suspiciously like tears glittered in his eyes.

"So it's true," Shayera whispered with awe, shoulders slumping.

I nodded, looking out at all those sprawled around the room. They were all visibly showing signs of changing back to normal. I also thought of my uncle Barry, back in Central City. If we could track him down and capture him, he could return to human. So could everyone else. It was a really mindboggling feeling. "Looks like it, yeah."

"What do we do now?" Ollie asked from across the room.

"We get to work," Shayera said firmly, both hands clenching into fists. I reached out and took one, giving it a friendly squeeze. "There's a lot that needs to be done, obviously."

"There's a sufficient lab set up at the colony," Vic declared. "We can stat mass-producing the chemical compound of the cure and injecting those infected."

"In other words, I'm about to become a human lab rat," I said dejectedly, though the thought of having such a big part in saving humanity secretly thrilled me.

"Looks like it, yeah," Shayera said teasingly, echoing my earlier words.

"Colony?" Vandal asked quietly, for once sparing us any cynical commentary.

"We've been calling it Plymouth," Shayera explained. "New beginnings."

"Then I suppose we'll leave in the morning, when it's light," Vandal proposed, briskly rubbing his hands together. "We'll need to compose a list of supplies for the journey and gather them before then."

"Don't plan on bringing anything with salt," Vic said. "My research points to salt-based products being something that attracts infected. Perhaps because they think they smell blood. The cause is still inconclusive."

"Ollie?" came a quiet voice.

I looked over to see that Dinah's blue eyes had opened, and that Ollie looked close to tears. "Dinah," he murmured back to her, lips almost splitting open from his enormous smile.

I took a deep breath, feeling freer than I had in months. There was a lot of work ahead of us, but in the end, everything would be worth it. Earth was a long ways from being normal again, and this was going to take a while, but after we were done, countless innocent lives would be saved. No matter what it took out of me, this was going to be worth it.

"I'd better go let Jake out of the lab," I said quietly, not wanting to interrupt the reunion between Ollie and Dinah. "He's probably completely freaked out by now."

"I'll come with you," Shayera said, squeezing my hand. "I'm not letting you out of my sight, Wally West."

I nodded to her, sparing the smallest of smiles despite her babying. Everything was going to be all right.

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Many thanks go out to those of you who stuck with this story, even though I didn't update very much there for a while. ^-^; Especially those of you who reviewed on every chapter. I hope to see some of you at future fics of mine! :D


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